The Withering
by fuchsian-patatoes
Summary: Avery was having a normal enough day when she got sick with something doctors are calling 'the withering', a disease that has put her in a coma, dying. But she's not in a coma; she's in her computer, in the company of a lunatic who's caused an apocalypse in Minecraftia. But if she can't save this dead world, she may end up dead in hers. So, she's going to save it, or die trying.
1. Chapter 1: The Village

**Minecraft: The Withering**

Summary: Avery was having a normal enough day when she got sick with some illness doctors are calling 'the withering' –a disease that has put her in a coma, slowly dying. But she's not in a coma; she's in her computer, in the company of a power-mad lunatic who has caused an apocalypse in a sandbox game. But if she can't save this dead world, she may end up dead in her own. So, naturally, she's going to save it...or die trying.

Disclaimer: Fanfiction. I own nothing except something. Blah blah blah, etc.

I've always hated the color gray. A lot. It's one of the things that make this world so unappealing. The sky consistently being gray isn't exactly easy to ignore. The sun's hidden somewhere behind it. _Somewhere_. It may come out some day, but for now I'm left with infinite gray and dark clouds to match. Not to mention all the ash; that's gray, too.

My boots crunch on the ground as I walk over dead grass, dead leaves, and, of course, all the darned ash. The ash is to be blamed by all the fire, which is long gone now, leaving behind sharp winds and cold weather. Ordinarily, you could only find this sort of weather in a Taiga –this was once a thick forest–, but I suppose _that_ stopped being ordinary long ago. Most every place is cold now, even deserts.

I pull my hood up over my head, already under the cover of a leather cap, trying to escape the cold. There's not any snow here, but there might as well be. Despite my thick enough coverings, I still shiver as the wind picks up. If it continues, I'll need to head back to cover, and I can't do that right now. I came here for a reason.

It's still what is considered morning, as the sky is still gray instead of black. Both the moon and the stars are both covered by the thick fog, though, so perhaps I wouldn't be able to tell. Clocks are the only real way to know anymore, and the only one I had ended up at the bottom of a lake; I couldn't dare try getting it, the water was deep and had long been polluted. Water isn't necessary here, though, so it's not much of a problem.

My "steed" follows quickly at my side, encouraged by the nice collection of carrots in my backpack. I've had to kill plenty of zombies to survive here, and it's earned me a quick collection of potatoes and carrots. For some reason, the toxic water still makes crops, but I haven't tried eating any, the pig hasn't dropped dead yet, though, so maybe it's safe. Or maybe it causes brain damage –I really wouldn't be able to tell the difference in the strange little animal.

It oinks eagerly as it goes, waiting for a treat in trade for its loyalty. I roll my eyes as I unzip my backpack, swinging it onto once shoulder instead of both so I can reach it easier. I pluck out one of the bright orange vegetables and toss it to the creature. We begin moving again; I glare at the ground, clearly irritated, as the sound of its oinking and chewing becomes the most prominent noise around me.

I stumble upon what I came to find. The pitiful remains of the village greet me and I try not to look at the charred bones of the dead Testificates as I go. That's how it spreads its disease, fires upon the living, frying their bones so they can become minions, too. I'm surprised they haven't reanimated yet, and slide my bow out of my bag. If they haven't yet, they will soon.

I find what I'm looking for quickly, as its one of the only buildings that _didn't_ burn to the ground –the blacksmith's. I invite myself in, stepping around the magma that has spilled out of the smelting area as I go. I find the chest, plucking in open, heart thumping loudly with eagerness. I'm rewarded kindly with a pair of iron boots, four diamonds –to my immense joy– and saplings. Three oak saplings.

I stare at them for a moment, dumbfounded, before sighing deeply and placing each prize in my backpack. Before, saplings would have been something to laugh at. Who needs them? But now, they provide hope. Practically everything has been burned to the ground, trees included, but these saplings... I will plant them later, I decide, as I examine the diamonds. They sparkle despite there being no light for them to catch. I smile as I put them in my bag as well. Diamonds aren't hope, but they're certainly something to smile about.

I'm about to exit when I hear the sound of bones scraping against each other, jingling as the black skeleton forces its dead body to stand. It stumbles around for a moment, before raising its new weapon –a sword composed of stone– and heads it my direction, relying on gut instinct since its brain is gone. Not that it has a gut either.

I raise my own sword, a blade made of iron, and remove its head in one swing. I'm a rather small girl, but physics don't matter much in this world. I look around; none of the others have risen yet. Good. It's time to get out of here. I dash almost silently toward was has become home, only the crunch of my feet meeting the ground giving me away. It's not far, so says the compass hanging on my belt, now clutched tightly in my hand as I go. The pig struggles to keep up, but manages, hunger driving it on the same was it does me.

We find the entrance to the cave in little to no time, and walk in slowly. I've lit up most of the cave, but I've been surprised before. Zombies, regular skeletons, and those black ones, too. But, as I round a corner, I'm surprised by something even more shocking. A creeper. It should be as extinct as those Testificates, just for the reason that it's alive. And that's the thing; it's alive, it should be dead. It doesn't explode, doesn't react in the slightest, just slides around me and heads for the cave entrance. I don't pursue it.

I've been told creepers, spiders, the like, used to hate people. Targeted them, and their only protection was Iron Golems. Not anymore. We've become bonded because we're alive. We all have a bigger, mutual fear. We can't waste our time fighting each other when death looms over us every second. That's what I've been told, anyway.

I slide out of my jacket, and then place some netherrack on the floor before lighting in ablaze, allowing it to heat me up. I let out a shaky breath as I stare into the crackling flames, another shiver rocking my body. I sit on the cave's floor, ignoring my bed only a few feet away. The fire is much better than those thin blankets, anyway.

"That's not yours," says a raspy, gravelly voice, speaking almost in a whisper, pulling my eyes finally away from the inferno.

I glare at the source of the statement. "And that's not yours." I say, addressing the deep red blanket wrapped around his shoulders. "Neither is that bed, or that oh-so yummy mushroom stew you're slurping down. So shut up." I grumble, rubbing my hands together to try and get a bit warmer.

He narrows his eyes, and I grow even colder. His eyes, pupiless, are a bright white radiates from them. His pupils were apparently once a light shade of indigo, nearly purple, or so he says. Not anymore. They went white after the...incident. "I wouldn't talk that way to a god."

I narrow my eyes too, and I know it's not nearly as intimidating for a few reasons. Mostly because they aren't a pure white that sends chills down your spine, they're just a pale shade of green –nothing impressive. Not that I consider _him_ impressive. "You're not a god; you never were. And you're nothing now."

The sends the stew flying, but it sails past me, causing a slight smirk to grow on my face.

"Ah, yes, _very_ impressive, Lord Herobrine."

This apparently means "death-bringer" in some random language that only mobs know how to speak, and it's what they started calling him after the incident. He lets out a shout, showing his anger clearly, before leaving the room to sulk. I let him, I could truly care less about him; he caused all of this.

I sulk myself, glaring at the fire, blaming him for everything that's wrong with this word, before tossing the pig another possibly toxic carrot and dragging myself to bed, carelessly yanking the blanket up and over me, burying my face in the pillow. I'm asleep before I even hit the bed.


	2. Chapter 2: The Swamp

One of the first things I'm aware of when I come around is the fact that Herobrine is still gone. The rage I had previously is replaced by slight worry; I don't _like_ him, but I'm not heartless. He shouldn't be out alone –not in his current state. The incident that happened not too long ago has left him extremely ill, and stepping out into the freezing weather for too long certainly won't help. I sigh. If he doesn't come back soon, I'll have to go find him.

I stare longingly at my bed as I roll out of it, pulling my jacket over my shirt and thin leather tunic. While I prefer a bow, I still keep my sword at attention, hanging on my belt along with a few other necessary tools. I pull out a piece of bread from by backpack and nibble on it; it's still incredibly fresh, even though it would have logically gone stale by now, since I've had it for a few days, unprotected.

The pig waits at attention, knowing the drill, and accepts my weight as I lower myself onto his saddle. I offer it a carrot and it gnaws on it joyously as I point forward, towards the cave's exit. Herobrine can't have gone far, not as sick as he is. He coughed up blood a few days ago; he would be in no way able to go farther than a mile before collapsing. Of course, that's not much better. The pig scurries forward, following my instruction. Stupid as it is, it's loyal. I can't ask for much more in this place.

We travel for roughly twenty minutes before I find him, sitting in the middle of a swamp, only identifiable by the bluish color of the dead grass, and the water, darker than the normal, crystal blue water. All of it is toxic, though. I don't move, don't speak, and he doesn't either. We sit in total silence for a moment before I leap off of the pig and land beside him, looking him over with something I don't want to admit is interest.

"Wanna talk about it?" I ask carefully, not sure entirely what sets him off. I've only been here for a little over two weeks, and he hasn't exactly "bonded" with me in that time. I sigh when he doesn't reply, just stares into the dark, ugly water, pale, dead lily pads floating on top of it, giving evidence to what lies just below the slightly murky surface.

I shiver against the cold, unable to ignore the fact that he's not wearing any sort of covering. No armor –thin as mine is– or jackets of any kind. Just that wrinkled, short sleeved, blue shirt and dark pants. No protection of any kind. Feeling foolish, knowing I shouldn't risk getting sick as well, I remove my wool jacket, sliding it over his shoulders, knowing he would reject it if I tried to pull it onto his arms instead.

He says nothing –_big surprise_–, just continues staring into the water. I sigh as I forcibly yank him to his feet, sinking my nails into his shoulders for leverage –he's a lot bigger than me. He doesn't fight me as I seat him less-than-gracefully on the back of the pig, tossing the animal another carrot and pointing back in the direction of the cave.

It begins the routine jog towards the direction I point in, oinking eagerly as it goes. Herobrine, finally moving on his own accord, curls his hands around the sides of the saddle, not wanting to fall off. I myself wind my arms around the pig's neck, leaning forward and practically burying my face in his soft pink flesh. Whether it's for heat preservation or just a sign of affection, I don't know, but I don't relent.

The moment is cut short when an arrow pierces the pig's chest.

I cry out about the same time as it squeals, simultaneously flinging us backwards off of him as he writhes in pain. I know before I reach it, sending my own arrow into the skeleton's skull as I run, that it won't make it. Its squeals of agony grow faint as the energy drains from it. I realize I care for the little animal and watch the scene in sorrow, but I don't cry; I couldn't in front of Herobrine.

My hands shake as I raise my sword and drive it into the pig's skull. It's hard, but I refuse to let it suffer longer than it has to –and, if I will pretend I did it out of coldness, I shouldn't let food go to waste. I forlornly watch the pig fade into thin air, leaving behind two raw pork chops in its place. I sigh and pick up the meat, placing it in my backpack, knowing I'll probably never be able to eat it.

Herobrine decides to place a comforting hand on my shoulder; I shrug it off without wondering why he even did the gesture. Though the animal's death brings sadness with it, I'm more worried about the fact that it left us stranded here, in the middle of a swamp. Death is bad, but survival is harder. The pig's death just made it even more difficult. I shiver against the wind's touch and shy away from Herobrine's when he offers me my jacket. Rage suddenly fills me.

"This is _your_ fault." I snap at him, whipping around to stare into his dead eyes, my own eyes narrowed in anger. "If you hadn't decided to run away to have a stupid tantrum this wouldn't have happened!" I shout, forgetting the rest of the world around me as I stare at his face, hoping for something to consume it. Guilt, anger, sadistic happiness, I'd accept anything –but no, he just maintains that same blank expression that might send chills down my spine if I wasn't so enraged.

It was morning when I fell asleep and he stormed out, so now the sun is setting, and with it, the already brisk wind will turn into a chilling agony. I spin away from him with a huff, half-running toward the direction of the cave, marked only by a smear of the pig's blood. I choke on a sob that I refuse to let out. I hear him following but I ignore it, focusing on the moon's pace. Time passes faster here, not _too_ fast, but fast enough for me to have missed a full day instead of a few hours. Not that it matters much. There's no way to know the date here, just time. And I'm not planning on diving into polluted water to get that clock back any time soon.

"What's that?" Herobrine asks, suddenly by my side.

I can't much follow his gaze, as he has no pupils, but soon enough my eyes catch what he's already seen. "I...don't know..." I say dumbly. How could I? He's my source of knowledge and if he doesn't know, than I automatically don't either. It looks like some kind of hut –it's hard to tell, as the sun has set by now, and no torches whatsoever light up the structure. I squint at it, but it does nothing to make it clearer. "Well, whatever it is, maybe it can give us cover for the night, since you've basically left us stranded here." I say, speeding up.

"I put the blame on the animal." he replies after a beat, once we're close enough to see the place is a hut of some sort.

I stop walking. That's too much. I spin around anger overtaking me once again. "You got _the animal_ killed!" I screech, raising a fist with have the mind to swing it at him. I don't get the change. My movement slows as my ears disagree with the sound of glass shattering. I watch Herobrine's eyes go wide, knowing my expression must be just as shocked. Just as he doubles over in agony, ever so slowly, clutching his chest and howling in pain, I'm overtaken by a wave of nausea.

I collapse to the ground, holding my stomach. Vomit rises to my throat and then I'm tossing up the bread I'd eaten probably less than an hour ago. I spit out the remaining bile once I'm done, and spend a moment shaking on the ground, trembling as another shattering noise touches my ears. I scream as pain overtakes me, starting at my chest and filing out to take over my entire body.

My screams fades at the same time my ability to remain conscious does. Somewhere in the darkness that surrounds me, I hear Herobrine's screeching, sounding beyond similar to a banshee, and my blurring vision settles on a pair of pale violet eyes settled on me, watching me with eyes narrowed in calculated wonder.

I pass out.

AN: And mayosoul and other random follower...THEEEEEENKS. :D 


	3. Chapter 3: The Witch

I'm roused by water –a lot of water. I blink my eyes open, glancing around, collecting memories until everything becomes clear again. It's dark. If I could see, I might be inspecting my surroundings. But I can't. I blink again, hoping that I'm not blind, though I don't recall anything that would blind me ever happening. My eyes are greeted still by darkness, but now I can see the moonlight, filtering in through a window. Not much for light, but it outlines the figure in front of me nicely.

Thin with subtle curves that suggest femininity, small, but of course, bigger than me. This is all the crescent moon outside the window will tell me; it's partially blocked by a fence, anyway. I stare at the outline in the darkness, waiting. I look myself over. I'm propped against a wall in what I can only assume was the hut me and Herobrine saw. I worry for his safety for a moment before I shrug it off and worry about mine instead.

The figure places a torch just in front of my feet.

"Good, you're awake."

I look the person over. A girl, like I assumed. Sixteen at the oldest, but her soft looks possibly suggest fourteen or even younger. Long blonde hair streams down her back, touched with natural streaks of ginger. Lavender eyes stare intently at me behind long lashes. The only off-putting thing is her nose –gigantic, spotted with a wart. If this doesn't give it away, it must be the purple robe, dancing with ancient symbols and strange patterns colored gold, or, maybe, it's the classically large pointy hat, emerald stitched into it.

A witch.

I watch her in the same way she watches me, eyes glinting with curiosity. She's spoken, but silence still settles over us. My eyes flick towards the exit; she follows my gaze.

"I wouldn't recommend that," she says, almost throwing her body in a chair. "You're in the middle of a swamp, with, from what _he_ said, no way to tell which way your home is."

I grimace, my eyes moving to be downcast. I say nothing; she's taken my belt and backpack –placed them somewhere that I don't know, taking my compass with them. So, yes, now I am lost. The next time I look up at her I see her swinging a small glass bottle into the classic witch cauldron, filling it with something I assume is water. She offers it to me.

"That's toxic." I mutter.

She shakes her head. "Not my water. Mine is _refreshing_." she says, and takes the bottle back from, taking a drink. I accept it the next time she offers it. I don't know much about a witch's immune system, but surely, if something is toxic to Testificates, who she greatly resembles, it must be toxic to her. I take a small sip. The polluted water in this world acts quickly –almost instantaneously–, but hers does nothing, and I trust it enough to take another tiny sip.

She takes it back from me once its empty. She fills it up again, but takes this for herself, chugging it down. She slams it down onto the table beside her when she's done, breathing a bit heavy, but she rights herself quick enough. "So," she awkwardly says. "I was wondering if I could ask you some questions," she says, watching me. She quickly adds, "Oh, and sorry about the whole potion thing –it's how I defend myself, if I had known..."

"Sure." I cut her off with these words and a curt nod.

She nods back. "What is your name?" she begins.

I think about this for a moment; she never said I _have_ to answer. It's not something very important, but still hanging onto old rules from a world I no longer live in. This is information I've only yet trusted Herobrine with. Not that I trust him much at all, but if he ever plans to speak to me in a more direct way, he'll need something to call me. "Avery." I finally say, fidgeting with a ripped thread on my jeans, not meeting her piercing violet gaze.

"Avery..." she mumbles to herself, mind somewhere else for a moment, before she turns back to me, nodding. "Okay, _Avery_, what were you two doing here, in the middle of a swamp, while the sun was setting? You don't look stupid –you'd have known it would be a risk; a deadly one."

I meet her stare this time. "My _companion_–" for lack of a better word, "–decided to run here to have a tantrum. Our ride got shot, so we tried to hoof it. And then we were ambushed by a crazy witch–"

"I said sorry!" she snaps at me, scowling. "Not to mention all of us. We want to kill that...that _monster_ so bad." she trembles as she says this, teeth grit and eyes narrowed. Not at me –at the ground. She lifts her eyes back up. "I'll take you back to your home." she murmurs, her eyes not quite meeting mine. She yanks something out from behind her chair. My backpack. She pulls out my compass and inspects it. "East of here? Okay, I'll go fetch..." she suppresses a growl and she goes to get Herobrine, tossing me my backpack before she exits.

I wrap my belt back around my waist, putting all of my important items and tools back on it. I nibble on piece of chicken, a rarity in this new world. She returns, Herobrine at her side. They grumble angry things to each other that I don't quite catch before she shoves him to the ground. He grunts as he pushes himself back up, offering me a hand that I reject.

"You're _lucky_." the witch spats at him, pointing an accusing finger in his face. "If it wasn't for that kid with you, I'd have killed you, _Herobrine_." she snarls, raising her hands to give him another shove that he gracefully dodges. He adorns a small, amused smirk. "Quit grinning about it!" she screeches, curling her hand into a fist, raising it alone to try and punch him. He dodges that, too. She screams in annoyance.

And then Herobrine's smirk is wiped right off his face as he spits up blood again.

Now the witch is smirking, but I swear I can see a small glint of concern of her lavender eyes. She moves towards a shelf and pulls forward another potion of sorts, not the odd shapes the ones she attacked us with were. This one is more like a real bottle. A bright pink liquid sloshes around in it; she hands it to Herobrine and he guzzles it down without question.

His pale skin becomes a shade deeper and his raspy cough fades. He's clearly still a bit ill, but he's become considerably better. "Thank you," he mutters, handing the bottle back to her. She wordlessly nods and puts it back. He notices my questioning gaze. "Potion of health." he says, and I nod dumbly. I question why this girl who hates him so much would help him, but I say nothing out loud.

"So, we'll be needing some transportation." the witch says, and I have expect her to pull out a broom, as cliché as it would be. But, no, she pulls out a light brown egg speckled with darker shades of brown. I'm about to open my mouth to ask what it is when she smashes it to the ground. A little bat appears.

"How did you...?"

She cuts me off with some kind of incarnation. I let out a shout of surprise as I stumble backwards, trying not to get crushed by the bat at is grows. Herobrine has a shocked look on his face as well, but he doesn't move, just stands there, stiff as a board. The bat stops growing. "Fabulous." the witch says with a smile, offering me her hand. "Let's go –you too, I don't watch you in my house." she says, turning to Herobrine. She yanks me up onto the strange creature and Herobrine climbs it himself. We fly through the open door and into the night.

I grip the bat's smooth skin, likely tarnishing it as I desperately sink my nails into it, trying not to lose my grip. A fall from this height wouldn't kill me, but it would certainly hurt. A lot. And I would be injured, of course. And then I would become a liability and would probably be left behind. I can't have that, left in this swamp that is slowly transitioning to become the forest we'd come from. My arms curl around the bat tighter.

Soon enough we land, and I recognize the cave. A dim light flits out from it, making it easier to identify in the night. Herobrine leaps off, offering me a hand yet again as he reaches the ground. For some reason, I accept it this time, using him as leverage to yank myself off of the oddity the witch still grips easily. I spot something behind her.

"Run." I mumble to them, before bolting into the cave, knocking out as many torches as I can. The explosions begin, louder than anything, but I can still make out Herobrine's footsteps behind me. The witch is at my side; she must have jumped. The bat screams behind us. I turn, watching the skulls fly at the poor animal. It lets out one last scream, a death cry, as its lifeless body touches the ground, just before it slowly disappears.

We watch in silence as the Wither, charred skeletons circling below it, slowly flies away. It is not often that it handles attacks itself, but I suppose the giant size of the bat alerted it. I let out a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding as it vanishes from sight.

"I'm going to bed." I mumble. They say nothing in return. As I shift in the darkness, hearing Herobrine drop onto his own bed, I notice the witch. She sits in the corner, in the fetal position, clutching her knees tightly to her chest, head hung low, shaking like a leaf. It's hard to make out in the dark, but I can feel her eyes piercing me, perhaps blaming Herobrine and me for the frightening encounter; we almost got her killed. I shiver and shift again so I'm facing the wall instead of her.


	4. Chapter 4: The Storm

I have to admit, the waters shifting, crystalline colors are rather hypnotic; it's no wonder Herobrine sat staring at them, dazed, for a few hours. Still, I pull my eyes away from it, shifting back a tad too much, and I end up falling back onto the grass with a grunt. My eyes settle on that gray sky instead. I sigh as I allow my thoughts to wander as they please. That's what I came here to do, after all. Think.

I unconsciously rummage for my backpack somewhere at my side, and hook a hand around it, tugging it closer. I reach inside, fumbling for a moment, looking for them. I pull it closer with an irritated sigh and peek inside. Gone. All gone. I check it once again just to be sure before I toss it away with a frustrated groan. Those saplings wouldn't have done much –they probably would have been removed within a week's time– but it would have been nice to see something alive in nature, if just for a moment.

This place is really depressing.

As if on cue, rain begins to fall and my eyes flick back to the water. It bursts and sprays. I scramble backwards to avoid it touching me; I don't know if it would work like poison or maybe acid –I just don't want it touching me. The rain is cooling and I close my eyes as it cascades down from whatever Heavens this land may have. I fall back again and allow the grass to hug me, the rain to hold me, and I try to get some well-needed sleep.

The witch screams.

I scramble up, practically leaping into my golden boots, dumping the water out of them, and grabbing my new sword. Diamond. Whoever took the saplings left my diamonds alone. The suspects are, of course, limited. The witch or Herobrine; I can't see why either would need them. I dash inside the cave, eyes wild as I search for her. There, in the corner, trembling. I roll my eyes at the source of her fears as I bring my foot down to smash the silverfish. I won't criticize her; she's been jumpy lately. It's only been about a week since the...encounter.

I turn to exit and pause for a moment, turning towards the left to lock my eyes with a pair of beady –yet friendly– eyes. "Keep an eye on her, okay, Sil?" I ask quietly. The Iron Golem nods. Sil is short for silver, the color that he appears to be. Of course, he's made out of iron. I trust him to watch her, as they are made for defense, and without her potions and the ability to make more, she can't much defend herself.

Herobrine enters. He's been looking much better since his consumption of the single health potion. But his eyes make him look like he'll be ill forever, even though that appears to not be the case. His skin glows with health and his movements are no longer strained. In a few days time, he'll be back to however he was _before_. Aside from the eyes, of course –those will never change.

I can't say the same for myself, in terms of health. I've grown visibly paler, and while this may mean nothing, I know that I'm not doing great. I've developed a cough and upon touching my forehead the one time I allowed it, Herobrine found it to be hot. Still, my physical state is all right for now, I'll just need to watch myself. That's nothing new.

"Raining." Herobrine murmurs, inviting himself to stand beside me. He towers over me, yet somehow we feel equal enough. In my eyes, anyway –in his, he's a God. It's a bit unsettling, to be honest. But he's sane enough; I've come to know this. I've also come to know his real name –Steve. I'd never call him that. He'd try to kill me. I've come to care for him, like that dead pig. If he were to die, he'd leave scars on me. That's for sure.

"Yeah." I affirm, not much adding to his statement at all. I fall back and my bed catches me. I sigh. I realize now that I'm soaked and perhaps Herobrine's statement was really a question. It doesn't matter. He draws my blanket around me and I resent him once again for caring. "I'm fine." I mutter, shrugging it off of me. He sighs as well.

The witch mumbles something incoherent about rain before she runs outside. I barely catch her pulling a bottle out of her cloak, and then she's gone. A warm body presses against mine and I offer the owner a small smile. The pig oinks in return. I'm no witch, and I don't know how she did it, but she just left one day, not saying anything, and returned with a small animal with a nasty scar on its chest and a smaller one on its head. I winced at the sight of it, a pain growing in my chest, but I've adjusted to it now.

That same head now has a golden helmet clamped onto it. I used most of my iron for the Golem, and I don't trust leather enough to protect the little thing. So, gold, just like my boots. I look the little pig over with a half-smile, wrapping an arm around it to hug it closer. I make sure to turn my head and cough to side instead of on him when the need to suddenly arises.

The witch walks back in with a few full bottles of water balanced in her arms, a small smile etched on her face. This is the first I've seen her smile since the Wither came. She flashes me a slightly larger grin as she places them on the ground. "Potions! I can finally –Do you have a brewing stand?" she asks excitedly.

I give Herobrine a lingering glance until he finally produces it –a blaze rod. I add a few pieces a cobblestone and it collapses in a small pile on my bed. She squeals in delight, collecting the items and scurrying over the crafting tables. She smashes the objects together and soon enough they form her prize. She runs to her corners and begins the process of brewing. She waits patiently on the floor, legs crossed, trembling slightly, but I know this is from joy and not fear.

"So," I say dumbly, then add, to make it a bit less awkward, "Um, how did you, you know, bring him back to life?" I mumble, drawing the pig even closer, smiling at it in fondness.

The witch twists to face me. "Potion of regeneration. Most of my home was _bombed_ and destroyed. It was almost all that was left. I found the blood; poured it. I could sense that..." she trails off, shaking her head for a moment before lifting her eyes to me again. "Potion of regeneration." she says simply, and turns to face her brewing stand once again. I open my mouth to ask something but the pig nuzzles by side and I can't help but give him my full attention.

She squeaks again as a soft _ding_ sounds and she plucks up her new potions. One of them is a bitter green, another is a dark maroon, and the last is a nasty shade of blue, all in the odd shaped bottles that don't quite look like bottles. She tucks them into her robe and they seemingly vanish. "Thank you both so much!" she cries, clapping her hands together in delight.

"No problem." Herobrine says, giving her a nod of understanding. This is what witches do. This is what witches need. She needs something else, too, though. I reach into my backpack and pull out a carrot and some bread. I toss a piece at her and she scrambles to catch it, mumbling a, "Thanks." I allow the pig to nibble on the carrot while I sink my teeth into my bread. Herobrine stands up, taking some mushroom stew he pulled from his own bag, and placing it in the furnace to heat up.

We eat in silence, only the occasional oink of appreciation from the pig breaking it. The sun is setting somewhere outside and Herobrine stands up from my bed, sauntering over to his and settling down there. The pig buries itself in my pillow. The witch yawns and stretches out on the blanket she's insisted on using as a bed. It was one of the other things that survived the attack. I stuff the rest of my bread into my mouth and yank my blanket up to my chin, closing my eyes just as the first crack of lightning strikes the sky.

I sigh and glare at the roof of the cave. There go any wishes of getting a good night's sleep. I lift up the edge of my pillow –careful not to move the pig– and cover my face with it like the dramatic protagonist in a random sitcom. I groan as all it does it half-suffocate me. I climb out of bed carefully, stepping into my golden boots as I go, swinging my backpack up onto my shoulder. My eyes find a pair of small red ones. "C'mon Sil, we're going mining."

We vanish into a deeper part of the cave, the only sound being his heavy, clanking footsteps and the small chime of my gold meeting the ground. I pull out my pickaxe, diamond, just like my sword. Herobrine was _kind_ enough to donate a diamond to me. I didn't ask how he got it. Just as I find a patch of iron and I'm about to slam my pickaxe down on it, I'm cut off by a blood-curdling scream.

_Witch_, I think, my eyes growing wide in alarm as I turn to run back to the others. And then I see the arrow lodged in my shoulder, deep red blood trickling down my arm. I grow pale. Just as I stumble backwards, raising my sword to block any other attacks, seeing Sil raising his arms out of the corner of my eye, I trip over something. There's a brief falling sensation before I hit the ground and the wind is knocked out of me. The pain finally hits me, and my eyes droop closed. I don't pass out; rather, my exhaustion catches up with me. Either way, I end up incapacitated and floating in a sea of darkness.


	5. Chapter 5: The Hospital

I'm pulled out of a less-than-peaceful sleep by an irritating beeping. At first I try to ignore it, twisting so that my pillow is covering my head, but then, it grows louder, and louder, until it's right beside me. I groan and snap my eyes open. I vaguely recall falling under in a cave; this is no cave. It appears to be a hospital room, and upon looking down I find that I myself am I a hospital gown. I look back up again and choke.

"M-Mom?"

She seems unaware of my question even though she's staring right at me. Staring right _through_ me, more like it. Her dark eyes are vacant and tired, her fair hair is a frizzy mess, and I wonder what's wrong. I can barely manage to tear my eyes away from her to take in the rest of the room. White walls, white curtains, white tiles –suddenly I'm missing the grayness of Minecraftia. That's what Herobrine calls it anyway.

A tall man walks in with a grave look on his face. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Parker..." he murmurs, and I look at my mother, assuming he must be talking to her. He doesn't even spare me a glance. "We've ran some tests, she's not showing any signs of recovery, it appears that she's getting weaker–"

"No, she's not."

My mother's voice is wounded, pained. I know that tone –denial. She closes her eyes, and when she opens them I can see tears. I reach out to a hand to her, wanting to comfort her, and notice that it's hooked up to some kind of tube. The beeping returns to my mind and I frown. Am I...a patient here?

"Mrs. Parker..." the man, a doctor, I assume, from the white coat and superior-looking clipboard.

"She's going to be fine!" my mother snaps. "It's just a cold! Just a..." her eyes fall closed and I realize she must be much more tired than I think.

The doctor frowns. "It's a severe illness, he says, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Look –visiting hours are over, you should–"

A little boy bounding into the room cuts him off; my breath hitches as I find his face.

"Mom!" my little brother explains, racing over to clutch her arm, tugging on it with the same old eagerness he's always had. His blue eyes are excited but worried when she doesn't respond. "Mom, Dad's outside to pick you up, c'mon!" he says, voice a bit less enthusiastic and a bit more concerned. "Mom..."

The doctor sighs. "Your mother is just a bit tired; I think she wishes to sleep here tonight. I wouldn't disturb her," he says, placing his clipboard down on the table beside my bed. I spare it no interest as my eyes bore into his; he doesn't notice.

Carl's eyes show sadness in the same way his frown does as he releases her arm. "Okay..." he says, in a voice that shows his seven-year-old joy has been momentarily crushed. "How's my sister?" he asks, his voice faltering a bit as his eyes lock on mine, but I still feel that same hollowness, like he's not looking at _me_.

"Go home." the doctor says simply, not wanting to be the bearer of bad news to a little kid. He exits the room and my brother chases after him, bright red sneakers that he loves so much tapping the dull white tiles as he does. He almost trips over his loose shoelaces –he hasn't yet learned to properly tie them–, but manages to right himself as he exits into the hallway, sparing me one last sad glance before he goes.

I sigh in frustration as I twist, eyes catching the clipboard. I reach out with my free hand and grab it, half-bored eyes investigating it. Patient reports. I flip through each one, seeing common things that don't arouse my interest. I finally raise my eyebrows at a few pages in the back, a stick-note titling their ailment as, _"The Withering"_.

I flip to the first page in the set and see my name.

Name: Avery Parker

_Age: 13_

_Patient ID: 30913_

_Illness: The Withering –Non-contagious; places victim in coma, gradually dying. Sickness causes a weakness and paleness before comatose (dark pupils on occasion)._

_Status: Alive (comatose)._

I can feel myself grow pale. What _is_ this? I'm sick. With this disease called the Withering. I flip through and see a few other names; most of them have already died, but a few of them are still alive, probably close to dead. I reach the last page. One final sentence catches my eyes, a summary of sorts and I read it intently.

_"Illness affecting many around the globe. No cure. It is commonly found in teen adolescents and children, but not rare in adults. Most commonly found unconscious in front of (strangely) technologic devices (computers, phones, laptops, etc.) before progressing into comatose stage. More in file."_

I place the clipboard back down where it was and throw myself back on the pillows with a sigh. What's going on? I notice the darkness closing in on me before it truly begins to. It consumes my vision and slowly I'm falling back into rest, body feebly thrashing against the unseen force, but unable to do anything.

**(~Brief Transition~)**

I awake with a start, eyes wide and breaths ragged. I look around slowly and find myself still in the cave. I sigh in relief. What _was_ that? A dream? A nightmare? Was it some kind of vision? I stiffen as the sound of heavy footsteps greets my ears. I expect maybe a normal skeleton or one of _his_ minions, or perhaps a zombie, all the ones that hate us so...

It's none of those things. A relatively large hand extends towards me; I accept it without thinking. It tugs me up and onto my feet, and I stagger for a moment before righting myself. I glance at my arm. The wound has been clean and a slightly reddened bandage is wound around it. I lift my eyes to greet to hand's owner. I see a man, with dark hair –the parts of it on his head covered why a tattered black hat– and a matching dark beard. His coat matches his beard, long and black with black buttons. I get the impression he likes that color.

"Hello." I mumble quietly, feeling slightly intimidated. He's much larger than me and I have no idea where my sword flew off.

He offers me a smile before pulling something off of his belt. My sword. He gingerly hands it to me and I reward him with a simple nod before placing it on my own belt. I unwillingly lift my eyes to meet him and ask the question that's been plaguing my mind since I first saw him, roughly a minute ago, "Who are you?"

He flashes me a lop-sided smile. "Notch." he says simply; an odd name but I don't question it. "And we have much to discuss, young lady." he extends a hand. I hesitate at first, but I know if he had intentions to hurt me, he would have. Instead he bandaged my arm, returned me my sword, and helped me onto my feet. I sigh under my breath before locking my hand around his.

"I could kill you." I warn, unsure as to if I actually could.

He merely chuckles, giving my hand a squeeze. "I know."

**AN: Because Notch.**


	6. Chapter 6: The Brothers

I can tell without any kind of explanation that there's some tension between Notch and Herobrine. At the very sight of him, the man beside me stiffens and visibly pales, and Herobrine, across the room, stops the wooden bowl he had been holding. I didn't know he was capable of holding very much emotion, but he expresses so much rage at the moment that I contemplate running out into the rain –still there, the lightning tells me, as it crackles through the sky.

"You're back." the witch says, seemingly oblivious to the thickness of the air in the room right now. "We were worried. Your arm..." she mumbles, and I glance at it again. It's not so bad, the arrow went pretty deep, but I won't question Notch's healing techniques. The lack of pain speaks for itself; I'd probably be writhing in agony on the cave floor right now if it weren't for him.

I cross the room to sit on my bed, not wanting to be near either of them as their eyes pierce each other. I must admit, despite the sinister gaze that Herobrine's silvery eyes hold, Notch is quite intimidating himself, his dark eyes, narrowed in an angry glare, send chills down my spine. Sil, who we picked up along the way, walks between them to chat with the witch. They have some kind of bond that I'm almost sure has to do with their gigantic noses.

Herobrine takes a deep breath, blinking his eyes and setting his jaw, as he looks Notch over one more time. "I missed you, brother," he says in a quiet voice, almost a whisper. His expression is no longer shocked or angry –it's calm, even relaxed. A tiny half-smile touches his lips as he looks Notch over. "You're no worse for wear."

Notch rolls his eyes; something Herobrine can't do, as he lacks pupils –visible ones, anyway. "Well, I've been in hiding since your little stunt, so I've managed to stay unscathed...for now, anyway." he explains, his eyes shine with an emotion that looks hurt, but the rest of his face is cold and calm, he even looks bored. But those pupils, the ones that Herobrine must be so glad to lack, betray him. He looks like he's buried in sorrow; he blinks away tears.

Herobrine cringes. "Such emotions, my dear brother. Finally warmed up to me, have you? After all those years of hating me –shame that the end of the world had to bring it out. But I'll accept it, nonetheless."

Notch glared at him again, any sign of sadness draining from him instantaneously. "I never hated you, Herobrine."

I cringe at that one. Even his own brother finds Herobrine to be, as the name must imply, a bringer of death. I say nothing, even the ignorant witch has caught on at this point, wrapping her arms around Sil and burying her head in his solid, steel chest. He can't return the gesture, but he allows her to do as she pleases.

Herobrine laughs, a raspy, menacing thing full of malice and distrust. "Lying to me? And here I thought you were the good one." he said, and chuckled again, empty eyes somehow smiling just like the humored grin his mouth has stretched to hold.

"You make me sick." Notch says, bluntly, not even trying to hold back anymore. "How you could do what you did...I can't even fathom it!"

And what did he do? Herobrine has never directly told me, just referred to as an incident, an accident, mentioning on a single occasion that it was what brought forth the death-bringing monster known as the Wither. It occurs to me that I should inform them I'll ill with some kind of Wither disease, but as these too brothers glare at each other with so much hatred, I keep my mouth shut instead.

Herobrine just laughs again. "I don't need your approval; I strive for your discontent. Do not scold me, Notch. I am not a child, not anymore," he says, clearly and evenly. He turns; no longer facing his brother, now watching the rain hit the ground through the mouth of the cave. "The world you ruled is in ruins, you're hardly superior to me anymore."

It's Notch's turn to laugh. "All these years and you're still bitter; it was my crown Herobrine. I was the eldest. Because of you, there's no world to rule anymore, so just forget about it!" his voice rose sometime during the rant and now he's almost shouting. "Just forget about it..." he repeats, barely murmuring it. His eyes hold sorrow again.

I shift on my bed so that I'm lying on my side. I zip my backpack open and this seems to alert both of them to the fact that they aren't the only people in the room. I reach inside and pull out a few of the contents. Herobrine wanders toward me, careful not to get to close. He looks me over and his eyes catch on the bandage wrapped around my arm.

"You all right?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I'm fine." I affirm, not meeting his eyes, focused on other things. I hear his footsteps tapping away just as I slide on my glasses. I don't need them to see things –just to read. I pull the book onto my lap and flip open to a page that I have marked. It's not adventure novel I happened to have with me when I was brought here, no, it's something I found in the Jungle, in a chest, guarded by various trip wires I could barely see.

I whip out my quill and poise it just above the page. Various scribblings I've jotted down litter the area where the actual writer hasn't written anything. Notes, for lack of a better word. The book is written much like Shakespeare, in some language that I speak, but don't quite understand. I'm trying to "decode" it, if you will. It helps that my ink is the deep black of a squid, and the writer's is somehow red.

I examine the pages contents. The writer discusses, today, more information on Wither Skeletons. I loathe them; I could never make a _stone sword_ hurt that much. Ever. The author writes about how just one slice from their poison-coated blade can give you "The Withering", a disease that slowly drains health from you and gives it to the Wither. I circle that. It must be related to the dream.

Notch informed me that we need to talk about something, but that hasn't happened yet. First, we needed to get back here. I have a hunch whatever we need to discuss will have to do with that odd little vision. I silently wonder about it, letting my eye's drift from the frayed, yellow pages of the book to the wall. My mother was in such bad shape...

I'm pulled out of my revere by a soft oink and a pink mass burying itself in my side. I laugh light-heartedly and place the book and quill back in my bag; I'll figure it out another day. I gingerly remove my glasses as well, tucking them inside one of the more cushioned pockets. I need them in once piece. I wrap my arms around the pig and hug him to my chest, smiling, without a care in the world.

"A word, Avery?"

I don't recall ever introducing myself to Notch, but I suppose since he's the magical ruler of this place he must know this kind of stuff. I nod, and follow him into a separate wing of the cave. I sit cross-legged on the ground, resting my hands on my knees as I lean forward in anticipation. "You wanted to talk?"

"Yes." he says, lowering him body to the ground and mimicking my stance. "I'm sure that...dream...left you confused."

"Y-yeah..."

How could he know about that?

He sees the look of bewilderment on my face and cracks a grin. "Gods know things." is all he says before moving right along. "I want you to know that it's real; all of it. And that you're close to dead right now." he tells me, and my hand unconsciously lifts to feel my pulse –still there. He chuckles lightly. "No, not yet. You still have a few months, plenty of time, I'm sure. The clipboard in your –er– dream, it told you there was no cure. That is a lie."

I raise my eyebrows.

He continues, "There is a cure. It's...not easy to access. But it can be claimed." he watches my expression with interest and then looks away. "By...killing the Wither. By reclaiming the health it has stolen from you. By reclaiming the health it has stolen from so many, and many more to come," he tells me, and my eyes shoot wide. "You'd be saving so many lives..."

"Are you mad?" I ask, not meaning to sound so harsh, but I'm in shock. "I can't kill the Wither! Have you seen that thing?! _Three heads_. Three! And the skeletons, and the floaty-skull things –" I realize how idiotic I sound right now, but, sapping at my surprise like a drug, I continue, "–How am _I_ supposed to kill it?"

Notch half-smiles. "Have faith in yourself. It can only be you."

I open my mouth to question this but at the same time the smile drops from his, and his eyes shift somewhere else. I follow his gaze but see nothing.

"I must go," he says, abruptly rising to his feet, brushing himself off. "I'm needed elsewhere. We'll talk later, for now I–"

He vanishes before my eyes, but something else is in his place. A single, small book, adorning worn leather, just like the one waiting for me in my bag right now. I shuffle towards it, leaning down to pick it up, and I examine the cover. _The Prophesy of the Withering_, it reads, in big, capitalized letters. A sticky note straps onto it. I half smile at the messy handwriting adorning it, fighting back a chuckle. _Made some adjustments to those glasses, hope it doesn't affect your reading! ~Notch_

I slide it under my arm and head back into the cave. My eyes settle on Herobrine and from the way he's drenched in water, I make the inference that he stormed off into the rain to, quite literally, cool down. I flop down on my bed and allow the pig to settle on my stomach.

"Your brother's not that bad." I offer as I flip open the first page of this new book, reaching into my backpack to pull out my glasses, curiously wondering what Notch did to make them different.

Herobrine sneers. "_You_ would think that."

"Go to hell." I mutter over my shoulder, settling my glasses on top of my face. I open the book and notice it looks like a series of poems. It rhymes, at least. I notice the silence; it has stretched over the room and engulfed it, and I wonder if what I said was somehow too much. I look up at Herobrine.

He stares at me for a moment and then nearly grins. "That's an excellent idea. Let's go to hell."

I close the book with a sigh and wait for him to elaborate.

Herobrine's mumbling things to himself, getting in self-versus-self arguments. "If we go to the Nether we can get more Blaze rods –we'll have to avoid those nasty skeletons– and by doing that we can make Eyes of Ender..." he murmurs to himself, eyes flicking around the room. "We can enlist her help. Will she even want to help? Her people are isolated there for a reason..."

"Herobrine?"

He comes back to reality almost immediately and gives me a confident nod. "Good job, sweetheart." he says in an _almost_ not sarcastic way. "Let's go to hell!" he grins with enthusiasm.

I exchange a glance with my pig, and nothing he does can indicate a disagreement. Not that I expected one. I sigh and roll my eyes. "M'kay. It'd be a pleasure to see a place more hellish than this."

The witch grins from across the room. "That's the spirit! Don't suppose either of you have any Nether warts."

Herobrine again deposits more of his Nether merchandise and I feel obligated to question how he's acquired it, but I say nothing. "Fabulous. Swimming in lava is rather fun," he says, smirking, and I suppose that the potions she's fixing up right now must protect you from fire harm. This confirms my guesses that he must have been to the Nether at some point.

"When did you ever go there?" I ask, cocking an eyebrow at him, something I acquired from one of my friends at home. The memory seems almost dream-like, having spent so long in this world instead.

He offers me a cynical grin. "I used to rule it."


	7. Chapter 7: The Cave

I find it almost funny how physics have no effect on anything in this world –other than sand and gravel. For instance, how could a thirteen-year-old girl who's about the height of a twelve-year-old girl swing a pickaxe easily enough to break down the stone in front of her in a mere four swings? Physics. A mineral to my left catches my eye, and I crouch down in front of it, placing a hand on it. Just as it has been described to do, the ore emits a soft, red light and the contact, letting itself sparkle for the fortunate man watching.

"Redstone." I call to my left.

Herobrine literally races toward it, toppling me over and sending me to the ground with a thud. He is silent as he watches it intently, and the ore reflects itself in his pupiless eyes. A soft smile touches his lips as he, almost hesitantly, places a hand on it. His grin widens.

I excuse myself, stepping away from my partner in this endeavor. Our group has separated for the purpose of preparation for our trip to the Nether. Herobrine and I are to be collecting minerals that will help in the journey; coal, iron, and diamonds, if we're lucky. The witch and Sil decided they'd head off in a hunt for obsidian, and I, rather unwillingly, lent them my pickaxe, using an iron one of substitution until I get it back.

I left the pig in the cave, unwilling to let him be harmed, not after the whole "shot by a skeleton" incident. Besides, the witch currently lacks the supplies to make any more of her magical regeneration potions; Herobrine happened to actually _not_ have any Ghast tears.

_"I would never harm my own people!"_

He had said this in an appalled voice; likely the most emotion I've ever seen him show.

I slam my pickaxe into a waiting vein of iron, swinging again and again until I've collected it all. Nine. Not bad. "Careful up here," I say, placing a few pieces of dirt down into the boiling magma below me so I can safely walk across. "Lava."

He follows almost unwillingly after me, not smashing the ore he loves so much into dust. He bites into a rather withered apple that we found in a dungeon chest along the way. It also held a few buckets and some more bread. It never hurts to have extra supplies. _Never_. I realize at he attacks it that I'd give a lot right now for a fresh, juicy apple. I really miss my own world. Not to mention, I still haven't quite figured _why_ I'm in this one.

I pause for a moment; yanking down my hood and pulling off my leather cap, letting my long, wavy hair fly free. I tuck the items into my backpack and shrug it up higher, as it has grown loose during the trek. We set off again, and I unzip my jacket. Being near the lava is...well, hot. I finally remove my jacket altogether and tie it around my waist.

We stop a short distance away from the magma, staying within enough distance to keep warm, but still be a good ways away from it. I pull my glasses out from a pocket in my jacket and place them gingerly atop my face. Notch certainly _did_ make some adjustments. For starts, they have a night vision effect of them. When I first discovered this, I had to laugh –it's a clear play on the fact that carrots supposedly give you better eyesight. There's also a small button on the side of one of the rims, small white lettering says next to it, _"Save for Wither."_

So, naturally, I haven't pushed it yet.

I peer through the glasses until my eyes catch something in the darkness that I doubt Herobrine can see. "Diamonds." I say, my voice barely above a whisper. Raising my pickaxe above my head, I sprint wildly toward the blue beauties. I smash them into their mineral form and count. Two. Not much, but it's perfect, as I've been dying to make an enchantment table. I've been told I'm the prophecy child that needs to have some epic battle with the Wither, so I should prepare.

Fun.

Still, the cave is a nice break from all the misery and ash aboveground. I hear heavy footsteps behind me, coming toward me. I initially suspect Herobrine, but I've been with him for almost a month now. His footsteps are just like his voice, a whisper in the darkness. Light, hardly able to be heard. These are strong steps that nearly shake the ground.

Not wanting to break the glasses, I neatly slide them off of my face and back into my jacket. I rear back with my diamond blade and just as I'm about to drive it into the heart of whatever stands just mere inches away from me now, I hear a laugh –a familiar one. I drop my arms with a sigh, glaring at Notch, wherever he stands in the darkness.

"I could have killed you." I mutter, stalking past him and back towards the place where Herobrine still sits, eyes locked on an ore of redstone to his left. "No tantrums, 'kay?" I ask as I plop down beside him. He pulls himself out of his trans just in time to look up and see Notch sit across the floor from me. He opens his mouth, but I sink my nails into his arm, momentarily pausing him. "_No tantrums_." I repeat, and he reluctantly nods. I bring my arm back to my side, my eyes flicking to the apparent God sitting across from me. "We've missed you, Notch."

He smiles –a charming thing that I can't help but compare to Herobrine's own sinister smirks. They don't have much resemblance at all. "It's mutual, dear." he crosses his legs and props himself up on the wall, so he doesn't have to do the task himself. Herobrine busies himself with the redstone, not meeting his brother's eyes. Notch can't do the same. "Steve, I–"

"_Don't call me that!_" Herobrine snaps, eyes suddenly set ablaze even though there are no pupils to make it obvious. "No one calls me that! That's not who I am anymore! That's not..." he sighs and buries his face in his hands. He lifts it up again after a moment and I can barely catch the small, whispered, "I'm sorry."

Notch doesn't look pleased though. "Me, too." he says solemnly.

"So," I say, stopping this before it gets to be too much. The apology from Herobrine is where I call it; he's close to breaking. I shift so that I'm leaning forward slightly, me knees bent to stretch my legs out at my side. "What did you want to discuss, Notch?"

"Well –for starters– you like the glasses, right?"

I let a small smile touch my lips. "Of course. What does the button–?"

"Ah." Notch presses a finger to his lips. "I'm afraid I can't say. All in due time, my dear." he promises, and I have to listen. I slump backwards with a sigh, ending up on my back, staring up at the roof of the cave. "And," he pulls my attention back over to him. "I was becoming interested in your progress ;I checked in on the others, they have more than enough obsidian for a portal. That idea –genius!"

I feel my cheeks heat up, and it has nothing to with the lava about ten feet away. "It was nothing..." I murmur –suppressing a half-smile– as I push myself back into a sitting position. "I was just yelling at Herobrine, I mean–" I stop at the feeling of nails raking down my arm, and know that Herobrine hand has curled around it. I let him do it; it doesn't hurt that bad, and him snapping won't help the cause at all. Still, I wince at the sight of blood when I dare a look.

Notch reaches over to hand me something. "Drink."

I down the health potion without a second thought. It tastes vile, but I know it will help. I can feel the skin regenerating around my arm, but that wasn't my primary concern; I haven't been feeling so hot lately. This disease isn't acting fast, but it's acting. I feel noticeably better as I toss the bottle back to him –he skillfully catches it. "Thanks." I say, breaking a silence that had settled over us.

"No problem." Notch says, dusting himself off as he rises to his feet. "I suppose I'll be on my way then; I just wanted to deliver that. Your witch friend was rather worried. You were showing all those horrendous signs, pale, dark eyes..." he shudders before he shrugs his shoulders, as if to loosen himself up. "Keep an eye an my brother."

Herobrine opens his mouth, but before he can yet out a snappy comment, Notch vanishes, once again, into thin air. He drops his head in defeat. "Well then, I suppose we should be getting back to the job." he said, pulling a stone pickaxe from his belt. He slams it into the ground. I raise my own, ready to help him, when I sharp hissing sets us both in silent mode. I near-silently inch toward him, unsheathing my sword, ready to defend us.

We, as quietly as possible, trek down another branch of the cave, both of us tense. I see the cobwebs and wood arches before I see the spawner, but don't make the connection until the spiders are already streaming toward us. An abandoned mineshaft; I examine it for as long I can –I've never seen one before– before I'm forced to start hacking at the sapphire blue arachnids coming at us. Herobrine gets bitten just seconds before I do.

We collapse, writhing in pain. A loud noise scares the spider away. Something is forced to my lips and forced down my throat. I don't know what –my eyes are screwed shut to avoid the sheer agony. But it's inside me, and there's nothing I can do. Just as I feel vomit rising to my throat, it all stops. I don't get the chance to blink my eyes open before I feel myself being lifted and placed ever so gently.

I make a few feeble attempts to get up, but because of how beds work in this place, I'm pulled into an unwilling sleep relatively quickly. I still struggle against the darkness even as it overtakes me, and I manage to get my eyes open for a split second. I see a boy, rather young looking, with deep brown hair and concerned, dark eyes. I open my mouth to say something, but my eyes are closing. I'm pulled under before I can manage to force it out.

But I don't float in darkness this time. It's either another vision, or I'm lucid dreaming. It doesn't matter much. I blink my eyes open, aware that I'm still unconscious by the unnatural darkness that waits at the corners of my vision. I sit in a soft, leather chair. Notch sits across from me, and various others sit in chairs as well, some of them spinning around with silly grins on their faces. They pause when they catch sight of me.

"Um...hi?" I ask in a timid voice.

A woman with pink hair laughs good-naturedly. "Oh, Markus, she's absolutely precious!"

I feel my cheeks heat up, but I don't respond to her. "Where am I?" I say, meeting Notch's eyes directly, allowing sea green and dark brown pupils to clash it out.

"A simple meeting," he says with a wave of his hand. "All the venom is out of you, yes?"

I shrug. "I think so."

Notch smiles. "Good." he says, and claps his hands together, catching the attention of the people, who talk quietly amongst each other until they notice him. They fall into silence. "Thanks, friends, shall we go about introducing ourselves to the new-comer?"

They go around the circle. Notch, of course, goes first. The pink haired woman turns out to be named Lydia. Another has a rather impressive assortment of facial hair and goes by the name Dinnerbone. A woman with long black hair and piercing pink eyes introduces herself as Jean. A couple more in between until we reach the end, and a man likely in his early-thirties with wild red hair and glasses that slightly resemble mine quietly murmurs, "Jeb."

"Alright!" Notch smiles warmly at him before turning his attention back to all of us. "You've all heard of young Miss Avery, yes?" he's greeted with murmurs of agreement and confident nods. "Good, so, we can call this meeting of Scwerf to order!"

"Scwerf?" I ask quizzically.

"Yeah," Notch grins. "Scwerf –SCWRF. Super Cool Wither Resistance Force."

I snort. "Seriously?"

"Yeah," Notch says again, still grinning good-naturedly. "Last time we let Jeb name something." he says, and laughter fills the room. The man in question's face turns red, and I'm not sure whether it's from anger, or it's a blush of in embarrassment, but I offer him a small smile that I hope is comforting. He smiles back.

I lean back in my chair with a grin. Super Cool Wither Resistance Force –I laugh; seems legit.

And, so, the meeting begins.

AN: Coolest name ever –I know. And Notch confirmed Ender Dragon(ess)'s name to be Jean on reddit. Just'a sayin'. And new characters soon. And I will incorporate that OC that was submitted –and any others ones, if you readers want to send some more in. But, you know, she's, like, an Enderman. So, I'll wait until they're in the End for that stuff.

**~patatoes**


	8. Chapter 8: The Nether

I've never been one for meetings. You just kind of...sit there. And listen. Or at least, that's how I normally feel about them. I mean –I'm a kid; I don't exactly get invited to meeting everyday. But, I imagine, they'd be rather boring. This meeting is deteriorates from that image. Notch talks, yes, of course, but he asks around for opinions and other people's thoughts, and he doesn't scold the childish members who do random things while he goes –one of them threw a paper airplane at Lydia; this sparked an amazing war that lasted for a good five minutes.

I hear my name I look up from my lap, where I had been fiddling with my thumbs just like Jeb. "Hm?" I ask, raising my eyebrows. Notch scowls, and then, unable to keep it up, breaks into a cheerful laugh that I gave to smile at.

"_I said_–" he says this in an exaggerated way that makes him sound aggravated beyond compare –and then he starts chuckling again, "–That you and the others are in preparation for the trip." he says, and turns his attention away from me and back to the group at whole. "Only one of the other prophecy members have joined Avery's group, currently."

"Five more then?" Jean asks, pink eyes wide in curiosity.

"Yes." Notch says with a solemn nod.

"Prophecy members?" I mumble, just loud enough for Notch to catch. "What are the prophecy members?"

"Avery!" Notch mockingly rolls his eyes. "Have you even read the book I gave you –or the other one?"

I feel my face flush. "Well, I– I mean, we've been doing a lot of stuff to prepare, so I– um–"

Notch grins. "When you wake up, give them a gander." he says, confirming my suspicions that this is –in fact– a dream. But I know that every singe thing that's happening right now is real. "You'll find a lot of interesting things inside. And yes, other prophecy members. You're a leader, Avery, but you're not alone. One of them –the boy who saved you from falling victim to those nasty spiders– has found you already. Five more need to, as well. Only then will you be strong enough to face the Wither."

"Doubting me already, dearest Notch?" I say, a tiny smirk on my face.

Notch scowls. "Maybe if you actually read the book, you'd know that I have no control in any of this." he says with an eye roll that is so convincing that I confuse him for a fifteen-year-old girl for a moment. "Anyway, yes, his appearance is following the prophecy just fine."

"What part of it?" I ask.

He can't suppress his grin as he slowly shakes his head. "Page fifteen, it says –and I quote– _'And when she and man at side are in a fix, he will come to their aid with blazing picks.'_ Which...we can only assume are pickaxes," he concludes.

I nod. "What else is in this book?"

"Well," Notch says, and takes a pause, likely for dramatic effect. "The last few pages are missing," he says, and I don't reply. What could this mean? That the Wither is going to kill me and the author is giving me the benefit of the doubt? "Nothing is written in stone; it is unknown who will be the victor in the battle. All we know is that you must prepare."

I nod again. "Yessir."

"Well then," Notch says in a serious tone. "You're regaining consciousness right about now, and we shouldn't keep you. And, thus, we adjourn this meeting of Scwerf–" I snicker again, "–Lydia, if you will?" he asks in a cheerful voice.

The pink haired woman crosses the distance to me with a gentle smile as she takes my hand. She urges me to close my eyes, and trusting her because Notch does, I do. I can faintly hear her telling me to open them, and when I do, I can no longer feel her clutching my hand, and she's translucent before my eyes. I close them again. When I open them one last time, I'm staring at the roof of the cave.

I lean forward, pushing myself up on my elbows, but when I attempt it, a hand touches my collarbone and pushes me back down. I can tell just by the icy feel of the skin that it's Herobrine. I shift my eyes to find him and narrow them. "What?" I ask; my voice cracks.

"Just wait a second," he says. "Witch is brewing up some more health potions for you –you're not looking so good." he mutters, seating himself at the edge of the bed I've been deposited on. His eyes catch on something, "Ugh, thanks." he mutters and then forces something to my lips. I recognize the bittersweet taste of a health potion and swallow it as it comes. The cherry red liquid in the bottle quickly vanishes. Once it takes effect, I rise to my feet.

"Thank you." I say to the witch, offering her a nod.

She shakes her head. "Don't thank me; I ran out of glistering melons –he gave me some more," she points at the brunette boy sitting in the corner, fidgeting with a loose string on his navy blue hoodie. He looks up curiously and locks his brown eyes on mine.

I look away. "Thanks."

"We moved you," Herobrine explains. "I guess that's what woke you up; sorry." he doesn't all that sound sorry and I don't expect him to. Silence fills the room and he clears his throat to break it, glancing over at the boy in the corner. "This is Dan; he's the kid that fended off the spiders."

"Thanks." I mumble again. Something nudges my boot and I look down to meet its gaze. I sweep down and scoop up the pig, holding him close, planting a light kiss on his golden helmet. I decide then and there that he may be the only one I can trust here. "Hey, Carrie." I say with a laugh. I'm almost certain that the animal is a boy, but I've taken to calling it Carrie as some kind of abbreviation for carrot; the orange vegetable he loves so. "I missed you."

"Carrie?" the boy –Dan, apparently– snorts.

I glare at him as my face heats up. "Yeah, you have a problem with that?"

He chuckles again. "Nope, none whatsoever."

I let out an angry sound that is something between a growl and a huff as I turn away, placing Carrie back on my bed. And then something hits me in the back. I spin around, a scowl already painted on my face, as the snow melts and trickles down the back of my jacket. He holds a few more snowballs in his hands, ready to defend himself, I suppose. "What's your problem?" I shout, face red.

He cracks a grin. "What, you have a problem with that?" he mimics the accusing tone I used just moments ago.

The nasty weather has subsided, I infer from the lack of thunder booming and lightning crackling. I storm out of the cave, the only noise being my boots crunching down on the soggy hearth. I plop down beside the water, hugging my knees to my chest as I glare into the water. Someone sits beside me and I don't have to think too hard to guess who it is.

"Get back inside." Herobrine mutters in an irritated voice. "You don't need to get any sicker than you already are."

I let out a huff of indifference. "I don't care if he's a part of the prophecy, _or that he saved our lives_ –I hate him."

He leans in closer. "Part of the prophecy?"

I shrug. "Yeah, so says your brother, who happens to be a million times nicer than you. He said that he's one of the five who's going to help me beat up the Wither –and he said it like it was possible, too."

Herobrine nods. "Alright. Come on, then, we've got the portal put together."

I shuffle to me feet. "Are we ready?" I ask.

"Yes." He says simply, and then elaborates. "The witch has plenty of potions for us –swiftness, fire resistance, health. Not to mention plenty for our enemies, too; slowness, damage, nausea. We have weapons, armor, and, of course, Silver." he pauses. "Are you bringing the pig?" he's not a big one for nicknames.

I think for a moment. "Yes." I finally say, knowing I can defend him, and the witch probably has plenty of regeneration potions. "What about him?" I say, sparing a glance inside the cave, where the boy waits inside. I don't feel very comfortable addressing him directly –I suppose that's how Herobrine feels about everyone. Or everyone but his brother, I guess. I suppress a smile at the thought of Herobrine genuinely caring about someone.

He shrugs. "He has a shovel...and those snowballs."

I scowl. "Impressive. Maybe he should be the one left behind."

Herobrine shrugs again. "He doesn't have much of a home, I suppose he's decided clinging to us is a good enough substitution –I don't think he'll stand for being left behind."

I roll my eyes. "Whatever."

I end up in a mix of armor. I wear golden boots and an iron helmet –for protection, and my leather tunic and a pair of leather leggings –for mobility, since I'm better with a bow than I am with a sword. Herobrine stands beside me in nothing –a choice I questioned, but he didn't relent. The witch wears full gold, as that is one of the more plentiful materials we have right now, for whatever reason. It might not last long, but she promises she has potions that will keep her from taking damage. The boy –I still don't want to call him by his name– wears full leather; I didn't bothering asking. Silver wears nothing –he doesn't need to, and I've thrown a leather tunic over the rest of Carrie's body, as the golden helmet protects his head. I also end up making a pair of leather boots to protect his feet; I may be worrying too much, but I don't want anything happening.

We stand in front of the portal, all of us holding our weapons of choice. Herobrine lent the boy an iron sword, but he still holds the ridiculous stone shovel in his other hand for whatever reason. I can see the snowballs on his belt and I have to force myself not to snap at him. I place my sword on my belt, shifting my bow a bit closer onto my shoulder, so I can pick up Carrie.

"So, who's going first?" the witch pipes up, breaking an intense silence.

Herobrine grins. "It's mine," he says before bolting forward and vanishing into the swirling violet. The boy half-grins as well before dashing to it in the same way Herobrine had. Sil goes next, and he has to crouch to fit inside the frame of the portal. The witch, unable to go even a minute with out him, goes in before I get the chance to take a step forward. I'm left alone –with the pig, of course.

I take a deep breath, closing my eyes to muster up my courage. This is probably going to hurt. A lot. I think about it for one more moment, opening my eyes slowly and staring at the portal one last time...and then I run into the brilliant purple before me. I'm greeted by a few things –a painful, violent ripping sensation, a momentary blistering heat that leaves me smarting –the pig in my arms squeals and I hold him tighter–, and then finally, a blissful nothingness, as the world around me fades to black. And then the blistering heat returns. I blink my eyes open, and as Herobrine's still freezing hand pulls me to my feet, I'm aware of just one thing.

I'm in hell.

**AN: Okay then.**

**Thank you, my loyal readers, for all the original characters that got submitted. Dan isn't one of them, just to let you know. Oh, and thanks for the new favorites and follows, to whom they belong.**

**And, also, I never really elaborated on the whole incident where Avery's saplings went missing, and it's a bit irrelevant in the story now.**

**But, anyway, the witch used them to purify her water, I was going to have a scene with that, but I forgot, and it won't really fit anywhere now.**

**Speaking of the witch, anyone have a name for her? I was thinking maybe Viola (reference to the Witch's House. No. What are you talking **

**about?), but if any of you have a better name, I shall gladly use it.**

**Well, I suppose that's everything.**

**~patatoes**


	9. Chapter 9: The Farlands

"I really doubt my former subjects would attempt to harm us. _But_ because of the...er...incident, I wouldn't put it out of my mind. So let's travel in groups, yes? Witch, you can go with Sil–" a squeal of joy meets this announcement, "– It's your job to find a fortress; get blaze rods and nether warts for eyes of ender and brewing. I'll go alone –nothing here can harm me, and I'll send to some...business I have here. Avery, you go with Dan –you two can brainstorm ways to find Endermen since they're almost extinct in anyplace but the End. Alright, let's go!"

I glare at Herobrine's back at he walks away. _Of course_ he would put me with Dan. I shouldn't have mentioned how much I loathe him –not that it would have mattered, me storming out of the cave, face red with fury, probably was obvious enough. I plop down onto the ground and make eye contact with Carrie. "Any ideas?" I ask with a small half smile. He oinks in indifference. I laugh.

The boy plops down beside me and offers me a half smile as well; I glare at him. "I'm sorry about the whole snowball thing–" he says this with a shrug and an indifferent look that doesn't make him look all that sorry at all, "–You looked like you needed to cool off." he says with a laugh. I don't drop my glare. He sighs. "Like...seriously though; sorry."

I believe his this time, but I don't forgive him. "Whatever. So, genius, start thinking." I say, propping myself up on my elbows. "How are we gonna find Endermen to fill up a portal to the End?" I ask. It had occurred to me to ask Jean during the Scwerf meeting if she could help, but Notch had halted me, telling me I'd be able to do so in due time, and informing me that the portal would need to be open for her to even get to the Overworld to help. So, I'd need to wait. And now I'm waiting –and hating every second of it. "Not to mention," I mutter. "That if we kill them I don't think Jean'll be too happy with us."

"Jean?" he questions.

"Yeah. Jean; the Ender Dragon. Or...Dragoness, I guess." I tell him with an uncaring shrug.

"Cool." he says with a breathless chuckle. "Well, maybe this book can give us some ideas." he says, pulling out an eerily familiar book and pulling it open to a randomly marked page. It takes a second for me to connect the dots.

"Hey! That's mine!"

He pulls it away as I sweep my hand toward it. "No; it's mine. I found it next to me on a beach when I woke up here." he says. I check my bag and –sure enough, my own book is still there. I pull it out and show it to him. "Weird." is all he says as his eyes scan his own novel.

"I haven't really red mine yet. What does it say?"

He shrugs. "Most of what I've read so far is just stuff explaining that your best friend over there was a _man of legend_, as they put it. Apparently he was known as Steve, back then. He was also known as Minecrafter; the one who conquers every challenge set before him. Basically, he went power mad and summoned the Wither in hopes of riches and fame, but it uh...backfired. He nearly died and um...the white eyes are a result, I guess."

I nod slowly, letting this new information sink in. "What else?" I say in a dazed tone, mind still swimming.

"_Well_," he says in a sharp voice. "It's actually talking about Endermen right now. Something about some kind of initiation trial –after they pass them they go to the–" he leaps to his feet, letting the sentence hang in the air as a grin stretches across his face. "To the Farlands!" he shouts contentedly.

"The Farlands?" I repeat him.

"Yeah! The Farlands –the edge of the map, another kind of end. Endermen are also known as Farlanders, they–!"

I take the book from him, scanning it with my eyes. "Oh my god; yes! I...wait." I say, coming back to reality, realizing how ridiculous we're acting. "It says the Farlands are the edge of the world. How could we _possibly_ get there quick enough to save this place? And –again– Jean may be just a bit upset that we killed some of her subjects."

"No, no, no." he takes it back from me, waving a finger at a specific line of words on the page. "Look, says right here that Endermen after passing the trials are left to face the world on their own –it won't be her responsibility!" he explains.

I'm unsure. "I don't know." I mutter, shrugging my shoulders. "Endermen aren't like zombies and skeletons. They can...think. It won't be the same killing them...or even getting to them..."

"Oh, we'll get to them." he says cockily.

I raise my eyebrows. "How?"

He grins cheekily. "Dearest Avery," he stretches an arm out to wrap around my shoulder, pulling me in slightly closer. "Haven't you heard of hacks?"

**(~Transition~)**

"Teleporting?" I ask dumbly.

"Well, yeah, that's how Endermen do it. That's how we got to the Nether. It's not crazy." Dan says with a shrug. "Lighten up, Avery; it's foolproof!" he opens his arms as is to prove the validity of his statement. "Besides, what could go wrong?" he asks with a grin.

I arch an eyebrow. "Oh, I could think of a few things."

He scoffs. "Name one!"

"Well, this..._machine_ of yours could mess up; we could be teleported to somewhere a bit less pleasant than the Farlands." I mutter. "Or it might not work at all. It could even only teleport half of us or maybe just one of us, I–"

"Dude." he cuts me off. "You watch _way_ too much TV."

I feel my cheeks heat up. "Well, it could happen." I mumble, averting my eyes from him, sliding my hands into my pockets so that I don't fidget with anything.

"And the Wither _could_ be a nice guy, but he's not, so let's teleport!" he says enthusiastically, gesturing toward this...thing he's crafted. Made from iron and some random material I've never heard of. I question if it will actually work, and I've told him that more than enough times. "Ugh, fine, you wimp –I'll go first," he says, moving toward it. "_It's just a mod,_" he mutters under his breath as he goes.

I feel a soft rage that grows quickly. I brush past him and stand on the blue and silver platform, stomach dropping. "How do I do this?"

He half-grins. "I've set the coordinates already, just push the big blue button." he points at it, and I follow his gaze. Yes, big and blue; can't miss it. I slowly move my hand toward it until it's resting atop it, but I don't push down. I take a deep breath, getting ready to go for it. "Come _on_, Avery. Don't be a ba–"

I'm gone before he can finish. It feels almost like it did going through the nether portal, but it's cool instead of blisteringly hot, and it doesn't hurt near as much. I keep my eyes open this time, and watch Dan for a moment. He doesn't meet my eyes, and I get the feeling I no longer appear before him. Neither does he, as the image before me suddenly changes. An extreme hills biome, but...with a strange twist. The terrain is...different –odd. I step off of the teleporting device; this must be the place.

I keep a zapping noise behind me as I walk forward, and know Dan has arrived as well. "Is this it?"

"Yeah." he says, his voice awed, as he comes to my side. "This is it –the Farlands!" he tells me, confirming what I already know. "...This is amazing. Incredible. I just–!" he jumps; I spin around to face him. "L-look!" he points in the opposite direction. "It's an Enderman; we did it!"

I do look. And he's right, an Enderman. Unfortunately, in finding it, we made the mistake of looking at it. It's Dan who coldly bashes his head in with the shovel and rips the Ender pearl out of his chest. I turn sickly green and look away as a blue-green liquid, the same color as the pearl, slowly trickles out of its chest, pooling around the corpse. It disappears into thin air, like all things do, soon enough.

"This is great!" Dan says, as if oblivious to the Enderman he just killed, as if oblivious to the green liquid covering his hands. "We can get 'em! We can go to the End! We–"

"Yeah." I murmur quietly. I realize then that he doesn't care much about life –or mercy, for that matter–, so why is he doing this? Why is he trying to help us save this place? I ask him this.

He scoffs. "Self-preservation, babe. I got it the same as you –in a coma in some hospital, fueling the Wither with my own health. Not willingly, might I add! So, I want to kill it, or at least help you guys do the deed." he grins cheekily.

I roll my eyes. "Let's just find some more Endermen." I mutter. He agrees.

We spend the next few hours in predator-mode. Projectiles are ineffective against Endermen, so I hold my diamond blade out in front of me, poised to block any attacks that come my way. Dan holds that green blood-soaked shovel that suddenly isn't so ridiculous anymore. I can't get the image of him smashing that poor Enderman's head in no matter how hard I try, so I just stop trying. I end up retching, as I haven't eaten much today. Dan waits until I'm done and after I give him the explanation that he demands, he murmurs an apology.

In the end, we find three more Endermen; he kills two, but I end up having to save him from the last one. He ends up with a nasty wound on his arm –I didn't think Endermen bit people, but go figure– which he bandages and insists will be fine. Just as we stop to rest, exhausted from a long day of cheating the system, something happens.

The air shifts to a chilling temperature that sends chills down my spine. I hear the crackling of the charred bones before they arrive. I see a black bone from around the corner of the overhang we rest under, near one of the existing chunks, since a lot of them _don't_ exist. I exchange a glance with Dan and I know we're both thinking the same thing –it's fight or flight; we choose flight. We bolt towards a different overhang and find a nice cave inside, relatively close to the teleporting machine that we can use if this gets _really_ bad.

The machine crackles to life.

I silently pray that it won't attract the Wither skeletons' attention as they amble around, but it doesn't. The alternative, however, is not much better. As he stumbles off of the platform, his eyes immediately lock on mine, and I can _sense_ the anger radiating from him. He storms towards us.

"I'm sorry–" I start.

"_Sorry?_" Herobrine snaps, gritting his teeth as he glares at us. "You left, giving us a measly sign that didn't even clearly tell us where you were going!" he snarls. "You could have died." he's talking to me specifically now and I hang my head in shame. "And you–" he turns to Dan, "You _can't_ cheat. That's not how it works. You've summoned him. Just get in the machine and go. I'll try and explain the situation."

The Wither was never out to end all life –just most of it. What's the point of ruling a world if there's no one to rule over? After the initial killing of everyone in sight, after assuring that he had control, he stopped destroying and salvaged what was left of the world. Some villages support him –rather small ones, though– and civilization has half-returned, but this place is still an apocalypse to those who _don't_ support him. That would be us. The Wither is "reasonable" enough, but I still worry as Dan and me shuffle toward the machine and Herobrine marches out into the open.

There are no explosions that mark the Wither's arrival this time; he just lands perfectly near the ground, hovering just above it, because he can. He looks Herobrine over with familiarity. I strain my ears to hear them from our slight distance. The middle head upon the beast is blank. The left shows disgust, and the right has a sick grin on its face.

"Herobrine~"

I don't know which one said this, purring his name every so gently, but I listen intently for more.

"Hello." Herobrine says calmly.

"Fancy meeting you here. Tell me, dearest creator, why were you defying the laws of my land?" I watch the left's head mouth move –the one who was disgusted.

"I was trying to find something." Herobrine mutters, and I feel like he'll glare at me, but he's too smart to turn and reveal us, so he doesn't.

"Do tell; what is it?" the right head smirks with malice.

Herobrine smirks as well. It's a sardonic thing that has similar murderous desire behind it; Herobrine must truly hate his creation. "I can't tell you that." he says slickly.

The middle head finally speaks, smirking as well. "Well, if you can't tell us this, perhaps you shouldn't be able to speak at all." the skeletons, now surrounding Herobrine in a tight circle, take the hint, and move forward slightly. "Grab him!" the middle snaps, and I want to yell as they grab at him, Herobrine's yells filling the air.

I open my mouth just as Dan shoves me onto the platform, slamming his first down on the button. I yell too, but the scene already changes before me. I fall backwards and land on the cave floor with a loud thud. "No, no, no, no, no!" I'm on my feet in an instant, scrambling toward the device, but not before Dan appears, and catching my drift, smashes the device in, just like that poor Enderman. "_No!_" I finally scream, flinging myself as him, aiming for his eyes, wanting to make him hurt like Herobrine probably is right now.

He yells and shoves me off of him, back onto the ground. "Cool it! He's gone and there's nothing we can do –so cool it!"

I sit there trembling as the information finally sinks in. I open my mouth to say something and then close it. The sorrow must show on my face, because the witch is at my side in an instant. I cry for the first time since I got here, sobbing onto her robe, burying my face in her shoulder. I cry for myself, I cry for my mother, and most of all, I cry for Herobrine.

He's gone, and it's all my fault.

**AN: DUN DUN DUN.**

**What a tweest.**

**And Farlands, because yes. :D**

**And Herobrine getting taken, because the story needs it.**

**Don't worry.**

**He's fine.**

**Probably.**

**~patatoes**


	10. Chapter 10: The Portal

WARNING: Get those tissues Herobrine fans; it begins –except I'm bad at writing sad scenes so probably not. Oh, and OC number one in this chapter. I've had to tweak her a bit. And kid now means teen years in the patatoes dictionary. Sorrynotsorry.

Herobrine has been gone for a grand total of five days. But that doesn't slow our progress. Four eyes of Ender were made, and Dan set off on a quest to track down the stronghold. He hasn't come back yet, and I don't want to look for him. As much as I blame myself, I blame him, too. The witch doesn't want to either, even with Sil around, I can guess she feels a bit vulnerable given our...current conditions.

I don't move much –just lay in bed. The witch coaxes food into me and gives me health potions when I need them. I hold Carrie close so that I feel a bit less alone. Still, a hollow feeling fills me and doesn't relent. But I don't cry. After letting it out just that one time, I vowed not to do it again. If anyone should be crying –it shouldn't be me. I'm not the one who's been taken by the Wither and is probably being tortured right now. I'm just the one who caused it.

I shift now so that my face is buried in my pillow. I hate myself for feeling like this. I should be up on my feet, making a new teleporting machine even though I don't know how, trying to get to him. Perhaps even getting capture myself as part of some stupid plan to rescue him. But I don't. I just lay here, wallowing in my pain that I don't deserve to be feeling.

The new door –the witch insisted that we needed it– bursts open.

"Free up a bed, _now_!"

Over the time he was gone, the beds –aside from my own, as I've done nothing but lay here– have begun to hold the various tools that we went to the Nether with. Just tossing them aside has resulted in mountains upon mountains of blaze rods, Ghast tears, and nether warts, not to mention our weapons, armor, and potions. The urgency in Dan's voice convinces me that whatever it is, it's important. I roll out of bed, quite literally, landed on the ground with a dull thud. I hold Carrie above me so he doesn't get harmed during the fall –I don't care enough to keep myself from feeling the pain of it. Dan slams something onto my bed and I spare it a curious glance.

I choke on the air that I'm breathing.

"Oh god, what happened?" I say, on my feet in an instant, any sorrow I was feeling instantly replaced by panic. I stare at the thing he's thrown on my bed. I would have identified it any other day as Herobrine, but he's so mangled and roughed up, bleeding on my bed even now, paler than when he was ill with the Wither's essence, that I don't even know if I should call him the name of the missing man. But I know, even with those pure white eyes closed and his body near completely unidentifiable. I just know.

"I–I don't know. I was just...looking for it, and, the, he..." Dan trails off as he dashes toward a chest, pulling free some paper to use as bandages. "They tried to throw him in one of the oceans–" I think my heart stops, "–But he landed on a few lily pads; thank god for that." he approaches one of the wounds, a long –but not deep– gash on his chest. There's another on his arm, also not deep. The only deep wound rests on his leg, and that gets a nice new bandage as well. "I was nearby, in the middle of nowhere. I don't know how long he was there, but he's been unresponsive so far. Some of his wounds got reopened on the way back..."

I visibly pale. "_Some?_" I ask. He doesn't reply, and I don't persist. I trust him enough to know that if he's not telling me, it must not be that bad. That, or it's so horrible he won't tell me. The latter sets me on edge, but I refuse to say another word, just staring at Herobrine. _All my fault. All my fault. All my fault._

His eyes snap open.

I don't know if I feel fear of relief, but smile despite the conflict. My smile fades as his narrowed eyes reveal to me how much pain he must truly be in. Tears well up in my own eyes, to match his, but mine don't overflow the way that his do. I swore not to. His hand snaps forward to hold mine as the same time a whimper of agony gets past his lips. As his mouth opens, I see what must be the worse.

The Wither wasn't kidding; Herobrine won't be talking anymore.

My mind doesn't catch on for a moment, and I dumbly wonder where his tongue has gone. I open my mouth to even ask. Dan apparently hasn't seen this injury either, because he pulls back, a shocked expression on his face. I reel back with him as I finally catch on, but not far back enough for Herobrine to lose his grip on me. I stare at his open mouth in horror.

They cut out his tongue.

I'm filled with rage now instead of sorrow. I scream, and it's clear that it's angry as opposed to sad or even horrified. But I make sure that Herobrine doesn't lose his grip. _All my fault. All my fault. All my fault! _My mind screams at me and I can't escape it. Still, my tears don't spill over, but I howl again, my eyes lit up in an angry fire. I want more than anything to find the Wither and rip off each and every one of his damned heads. But I can't, because Herobrine needs someone to hold onto.

"I'm so sorry." I finally manage to whisper. His hand tightens around my wrist.

"Ugh...agh...ugha..."

I grit my teeth and it's all I can do not to scream again. Why? Why him and not me? I'm probably going to die anyways... My eyes snap open. No. I'm not. Herobrine suffered this loss protecting _me_, and his sacrifice won't be in vain. I'm going to find the Wither. I'm going to kill him. I slide my wrist back slightly so he ends up holding my hand instead. _I'll avenge you, Steve._

Strong hands gently pull my aside and I allow Notch to take hold of his brother instead. I don't know when he arrived, but I can more than tell why. He murmurs soothing things to the younger man below him, assuring him that they can fix it, that he's sure they can. I glance at the witch –is there a potion that really can fix this? She slowly shakes her head, and I feel my heart shattering all over again.

I bury my face in the first thing I can find; it just so happens to be Dan. He holds me, probably expecting me to cry, but I don't. I can't. I just wrap my arms around him, seeking warmth that I haven't felt in so long and never in a million years would feel now. I turn back to Herobrine, and catch something glinting off the tears in his silver eyes. A small girl with big, terrorized sea green eyes and mangled light brown hair. And I hate her, because she caused this –because she's _me_.

I bury my face in Dan's chest again.

**(~Transition~)**

I glance at Dan questioningly as we reach the entrance of the cave. He tosses another eye of Ender into the air and it hovers above the cave's entrance for a moment before landing nicely back on the ground. None of them have broken yet, to our relief. Dan run's to pick it up. I step forward and place a torch in the dark, unexplored cave. The growl of a hungry zombie comes from somewhere below. "Think this is it?" I ask while already knowing.

Dan nods. "Must be." he says simply.

When Herobrine was returned, I vowed that I would find the Wither and kill him, and that's what I'm indirectly doing. Getting to him through what must be the stronghold. I reach into a pocket in my backpack and pull out a health potion. The witch packed about a dozen of them for me in case I start feeling weak, and I don't feel so great right now. My energy picks back up as I finish the sickly sweet liquid and I put the bottle back.

"Let's split up," I say, knowing it's not the best idea, but wanting solitude more than anything. "Race to the portal room?" I ask, knowing a competition will win him over on the idea. He grins and nods. "Good; I'll go left you go right." I say, and before I can take another step inside, he's bolting into the darkness, heading into his assigned direction with near-unbelievable speed. I don't allow myself to laugh or even smile as I trek inside after him.

I head downward, the only direction that's possible. I show no emotion as I behead zombies and literally snap skeletons. I stop after what seems like hours when I find the entrance, lined by iron bars. Dan already sits inside, on top of the portal frame, and as I enter he asks, with a playful swing of his legs, "What took you so long?" I worry he may fall into the lava, but I say nothing, because he must have already thought of this, and he's taking the risk.

"Hey, check this out–" he points as the portal's frame. "Most of the slots were filled already; it only needs two. Wonder why that is. Normally they need at least six..."

I point at a smear of blood as the ground as glance as an iron sword drenched in green blood in the corner. My guess is, perhaps, that someone came here before us –maybe to attack Jean, as that was the former goal in this place. But they attacked an Enderman, and, according to the crimson blood staining the portals frame and the ground near the lava itself, the Enderman _dunked_ them. Dan makes a point of doing a graceful leap off of the portal frame. It _almost_ hides the fear that was in his eyes.

"Let's just go already." I mutter, taking the eyes of Ender from his backpack before he can disagree –he normally doesn't like people touching his things. I pop them inside the slots. Just like a scene out of Indiana Jones, all of the eyes sink down and are covered by hidden lids. The portal flickers to life. I watch the sparkling blues, blacks and greens as they dance around my vision. This portal, unlike that of the one that goes to the Nether, looks like the night's sky, and I feel like crying because my dad and me used to go outside during the night and look at stars sometimes. But I suck it up and accept Dan's assistance as he helps me up to stand on it so I don't slip into the lava. I pull him up and we both stand above it, hand in hand so that we don't fall into the unknown alone.

"Jean's really nice." I promise.

Dan nods. We jump.

Cool air whips around me, similar to how it felt in his machine, but the cool suddenly turns to icy as time passes. I'm not sure how time really passes, actually. Maybe a few minutes, maybe a few hours. The only thing I'm aware of is Dan's hand wrapped firmly around mine. Finally, the frozen air relents. I open my eyes. I push myself up off of the pale yellow, stone tiles and shuffle onto my feet, pulling Dan up with me. We appear to be in some kind of castle, I note. It has windows and furniture and even paintings adorning the walls. We aren't in some random room, though. I know this because of the giant picture of Jean behind a light yellow-stone desk. This must be Jean's personal office.

The black leather chair behind the desk spins around and Jean's bright pink eyes meet mine. "Avery! Daniel! My, that took you a long time, but I suppose you _were_ busy mourning. Tell me, how is he doing? Ugh...it's so horrible..."

"He's fine." I snap, not wanting to talk about it.

"Yes, of course." she murmurs, tone apologetic. She snaps her fingers. "Ander, you'll bring our guests some tea, won't you?" she glances at the open door expectantly.

A young girl walks in. Her gray eyes immediately settle on Jean's and she nods wordlessly. She's small, but I note that her red-brown hair is quite long as she runs a hand through it shyly.

"Ander here is one of the two human occupants in the End. Of course Ander's not quite human...she had a heart operation. Oh, Ander, you probably mind me telling them so much. Sorry, dear." Jean glances at us again. "She's under the care Ed; he's the head of our military...I was hoping you could talk to him later. He would aid you greatly in your quest."

I nod, standing on my toes to accept a dainty pale yellow teacup as the girl, small but slightly taller than me, offers it. "Yes, we'll definitely talk to him." I promise. I sip lightly on the tea as I examine the girl beside me. She's almost unnaturally pale, and I wonder if she's got the Withering, just like Dan and me. Jean did say she was human. Maybe she _is_ like us. Not a simple mob, but a person –someone who doesn't belong to this world; someone who really wants to go home... I suppress a sob. This isn't the time.

I murmur thanks as I look away. If she is like us, something is bound to happen that will prove it. I don't want to ask, though. It's something about those soft gray eyes. Something cold. I don't allow myself to shudder as I force myself to sip more of the slightly bitter tea. "Yes; let's go talk to him. He should prepare your forces. We'll need as many as possible to take on the Wither."

Ander volunteers to lead us over to another branch of the rather large castle. We end up in Ed's own office, spinning around in wheeled chairs while we wait for him. Ander offers us a simple warning before she leaves to fetch him. _"Don't look him in the eyes; he won't take kindly to that."_ I decide to listen to her with a shiver.

Ed enters, and neither Dan nor me look past his torso as he walks in front of us. He smiles, though I can barely see it from my decided line of vision. "Friends," he smiles. "Welcome to the End. I'm glad to offer my services if it means _finally_ taking out that damned dictator –the Wither." he snarls this last part, and I can _sense_ the anger in those deep violet eyes that I can't directly look at. "Anyway, we should get down to business."

"Business?" Dan asks.

"M'yes." Ed says. "We'll need to know how dangerous the Overworld currently is. Is it infested, or will we actually stand a chance? We'll send Ander back with you –she'll let us know."

"How?" I ask him, dumfounded.

"Oh, Endermen have this kind of telepathy thing." he explains. "She'll just let me know quicker than you making the trip all the way back here. You should get going quick –the sooner we confirm the safety of our men in that place, the sooner we can send them in the overthrow the Wither and get Minecraftia back to the way it was."

I nod. "Yes, of course. We'll go now, c'mon guys."

After a brief discussion with Jean, the exit portal, composed of the unbreakable bedrock, generates before our very eyes. Dan enters first. Ander hesitates.

"You okay?" I ask.

She nods. "Y-yeah. I just...I spawned here. I've never seen the Overworld. Ed says the Wither's there. Is it dangerous?"

"We'll be okay." I promise.

She takes a deep breath like I did before launching into the Nether portal, and then she leaps forward, eyes scrunched closed in fear. She vanishes. My turn. Ed materializes behind me.

"Good luck on your endeavors, Minecrafter."

When did I earn that title? I look up to question him and make the mistake of meeting his eyes. I snap my head forward and away from him at the time as I force my legs forward. The icy portal consumes me just as I hear the iconic scream of aggravation that Endermen let out when they feel pure rage. When people look at them. I flinch as I float in nothingness. That's not good. A strong hand finds mine and pulls me to my feet. I don't have to open my eyes to know who it is.

Notch sighs. "I'll have a chat with Ed. I'm sure he'll be reasonable."

"What?" Ander asks.

"I looked at him." I murmur with my eyes still closed.

She huffs in annoyance. "Great."

I roll my eyes behind their lids. "Sor-_ry_; not my fault that your friend has anger issues."

She slams into me and my eyes snap open. We fight for a moment, her landing a few punches on me while I claw her face, before Notch pulls us apart, scolding us for acting like children. He begins a rant but I can't listen through the whole thing.

"How's he doing?" I finally ask the question that's been nagging me since Dan and I set off to find the portal.

Notch says nothing for a while, until he finally answers. "He's alive," he finally says with a chuckle that doesn't sound all that happy. "Healthy, even. But god, he's so miserable. I think he'll feel a bit better once you're back; we should get going." he says.

And because I can't stand Herobrine feeling miserable because of me, we do.

**AN: Because Herobrine with a tongue is overrated.**


	11. Chapter 11: The Creeper

**Pre-Story AN because I'm a cool kid: More OC(s); you said name him Alex or Adam, generaltemujin. And I was all like that little girl in those taco commercials, "Why not have both?" So we got twins. Woot. I didn't really get an appearance description for this one, so I'm just gonna make this up as I go. And of course I altered this backstory too. Because I'm a scumbag. And when you said that he wanted to eat Silver...wat. *ahem* ONTO THE STORY.**

I don't follow the others as they enter the cave; nor does Notch. We allow nothing to stop us as we fly towards Herobrine, who must have recovered enough, because he sits in front of the water, hugging his knees, empty eyes holding that same distant focus they always do. He doesn't lift his gaze as we sit beside him; I don't expect him to.

"Hey." I murmur softly, and don't recieve a reply. I didn't expect that either, so it's no real disappointment. I want to just sit in silence, but this is the first time I've seen him since his return, and I can't waste it. I take a deep breath, mustering up my courage. It escapes me just before I force myself to speak. "Herobrine, I'm so, _so_ sorry."

He looks up -I didn't expect this- and stares at me for a long moment, saying nothing. Not that he can say anything to begin with. Finally, he drops his gaze. I don't see anger, rather, I see disappointment. Because this is my fault; I got him imprisoned and tortured. The disappointment stings much more than anger would, so I look away too. Notch steps in.

"You've recovered well, brother." he smiles. He hasn't spent a day away since Dan brought his poor little brother back. He shifts to drape an arm around Herobrine's shoulders, a fake grin plastered on his face. Herobrine doesn't shrug it off like he would if he were well. "Maybe after all of this is over, you and me can make a new potion. One that can fix this." he grins, and this time I can see true emotion in it. Herobrine half smiles back. An identical smile slips onto my face without my consent and I wipe it away before either of them notice.

"Avery." Dan materializes behind me. "I think you should see this." his hand slips around mine as he leads me back to the cave. I don't fight him -I'm in a daze; what could it _possibly_ be now? Hasn't enough tragety befallen us? As we enter, and I take one look over the scene, I decide that, evidently, no. There's still much tragety to be seen. Blood covers my boots as a blindly walk forward, mouth held open as if I want to speak, but the words don't come.

I watch the thing move with wide eyes. It movies towards me, so I step back. It doesn't relent though, and soon it's close enough for me to see it clearly. The creeper is mangled so terribly, it moves slowly on its _three_ legs, slowly moving away from me now; it caught sight of the diamond blade on my bed. I stare it, bewildered. What do we do for the poor thing? While we were gone, it must have been injured, and it seeked refuge in here. And Herobrine did nothing -that's just like him.

A small figure rushes past me. I slip and land on my stomach in the blood. I feel vomit rising to my throat before Dan comes to my aid, pulling me to my feet, and I hold it back so I don't get us both covered in bile. I realize only now as he holds me close -effectively covering himself in blood- that I'm trembling. I turn to bury my face in his shoulder. I don't want to look at that poor thing. I don't want to do anything. Suddenly, I understand where Herobrine was coming from.

"Oh, it's okay, it's okay. I thought the man would take care of you, I..." a tiny voice shakes its way into my ears.

I spin back to face it. My eyes find a small girl holding what was once a creeper. Her big blue eyes hold so much concern and as I compare her size to the creeper's, I realize it must not be full grown either. It's just a child...I fight back against a shudder. "Who...who are you?" I manage, watching her white shirt show red as blood spews onto her -she pays this no notice.

She turns to face me, smearing her red hair with matching red blood as she runs a hand through it, collecting herself. She makes a brave face. "My name is Marcia." she says, letting her hands fall to her sides. They don't shake like I know mine should. What exactly has this little girl, no older then eight, by the looks of it, been through? "I left my friend here a few days ago, under the assumption that the man here would look after him. I get he didn't."

"Yeah, well, he's had his own problems." I snap at her, and then remember I'm talking to a little girl, so I relent. "What happened to it?" I say, glancing at the hobbling creature. I feel the need to retch again, so I look away.

She sighs. "We had a run-in with a few of those monster skeletons. As you can see, I'm not the strongest. I managed to get away mostly unscathed; Dera here wasn't so lucky. They got a hold of him and I..." her voice finally cracks as she looks away, tears swelling up in those big eyes of hers. Guilt swells up inside me. Why would I ask her about that? That would be like someone asking me about Herobrine; I'd snap long before she did.

"I'm sorry." I say in an instant, flying toward her and the little creeper. "What can we do to help him?"

She takes a shallow breath before turning to me and speaking again. "I left him here so I could go find his home -he's just a baby, really." her voice drops to a whisper. "I'm not even sure if they're alive, I just thought I could help him. But now he's probably dying and it's all my fault." her voice cracks again, but I don't catch it, I'm too busy fading away into my mind again.

_All my fault._

And I decide that I have to help her. I push a strand of hair out of her face, nodding. "We'll help you." I say, pulling my sword free of its sheath. "Any idea where this little guy might live?" I ask her, taking her hand as we head towards the cave's exit. I pay the blood splattering over my boots no mind as we go.

"I'm not sure." she admits. "I found him after the destruction of my village -I'm a Testificate- he was all alone and I just had to help him. There was another creeper with him -I called him Tom; the only reason me and Dera got away was because of him." her voice shakes again and I don't push her to go any farther with the story. She does on her on accord. "They were in a Taiga biome. I've been wandering there for the past few days. I _did_ find a cave, even a dungeon. No creepers, though."

I nod at her, as if this should make her statement all the more valid. "Alright." I turn towards the others, everyone but Notch and Herobrine, who I can still see sitting outside, Notch jabbering madly. I half smile before I move on. "Will you come?" I ask them. Dan hesitates, but the witch immediately nods, a smile on her face. Ander bites her lip, thinking hard, before nodding as well. Knowing he's outnumbered and staying here alone is foolish, Dan reluctantly nods. "Okay. What direction is this Taiga biome in?"

"Due North." Marcia says, scooping the poor little creeper into her arms. "Do you have any weapons I can borrow?"

The witch hands her a stone sword with a nod, but I knock it from her hand and give her an iron sword instead. My reasoning consists of two things -an iron sword is a better weapon, and since the outbreak of Wither skeletons...stone swords give me the creeps. I lead the way out of the cave and Notch cuts us off when he sees that we're all geared up. The little girl rouses some questions as well.

"She's a Testificate." I say, cutting him off. "She left her friend Dera in Herobrine's care; he did nothing. We're going to help her get him home." I explain. "Care to join us, boys?" I ask, trying to break a bit of tension I'm sure exists between us. Notch probably blames me for what happened; I know I would if he were in my shoes. I probably would have dried to run at him with the diamond blame I hold tightly in my fist even now.

Notch nods. "I'll come. These are survivors among my people, and I've never failed my people before." he elaborates, turning towards Herobrine. "Creepers were your idea...I'm sure you'll be more than happy to join us."

Herobrine nods curtly, making a few gestures with his hands that I recognize as sign language. The motions are timid though, and I get the feeling he's just learning this. Notch translates his words as, _"I'd be more than happy to get out of that cave. I was starting to suffocate."_

"Or something like that." the man shrugs, and Herobrine rolls his blank eyes.

I fight back a chuckle. "Alright, let's go." I say. We do. It's slow-going -not my favorite- but we get there nonetheless. It's even colder here; the snow grabs at your ankles at the icy wind claws at the rest of you, but we manage to make it to another cave. It's smaller, and it doesn't lead to any kind of places to mine, but it's a good enough place to rest for the night. Marcia and the creeper seclude themselves to a corner where Notch ends up joining them. I'd mistake them for a family with the way they smile and talk and the way she curls up against him when she gets tired. The witch and Sil take a different corner, and I allow her to take Carrie for warmth. The rest of us decide to go out to try and find the creeper's home, as apposed to burning daylight. I only grant Herobrine the allowance to come because of the desperation in his silvery eyes. I'm done letting him down.

We end up splitting off into two groups -one going East and the other going West. I -of course- head out with Herobrine. We walk for a while before stopping under one of the peculiar pine trees this land holds and eating. I watch him sink his teeth into his bread and eat with interest. He half-struggles with it, and I can tell that the lack of tongue is effecting him in more ways than just speech. He catches me watching half-way through and my eyes flit away at the same time I shift right to lean away from him. I find myself wishing he could speak more and more as the moments pass; he would have without a doubt said something that would leave me smarting a moment ago if he could.

I bite a slightly withered apple. "I'd do anything to make it be me instead of you." I say suddenly, speaking through a moutful of fruit. I'm greeted with a nod of understanding that I don't quite buy. "I mean it." I say desperately. He gestures with his hands furiously, but I just shake my head, telling him that I don't understand. The only sign language I ever learned was my own name -but I've long since forgotten this. Finally -frustration evident in his ragged movements- he picks up a stick, dragging words painstakingly slowly. I read them once, then twice, before I look away and ponder them.

_I did everything I could to make sure it wasn't you._

I decide that this stings more than anger _and_ disappointment. The fact that he's happy with the choice he made kills me. "No. That's not right." I say, because it's the only thing I can think of. He raises the stick, slamming it into the ground and underlining his words. "You care too much." I mutter slowly, rolling my eyes, frustrated. He points at me and proceeds to hold up two fingers. I get the message. _"You too."_ And I hate myself so much because he can't actually say it; he can't actually say anything.

I feel my eyes get misty, but allow nothing past that. "Herobr-" my voice cracks, so I don't go on. Silence settles over us, almost more suffocating than before. He smiles, and I can see the sorrow in his deep violet eyes. Wait...what? I blink, and know my mind must have been playing tricks on me, because his eyes are the same silver white they've always been. For as long as I've known him, anyway. "Let's just go; we're wasting time. I don't want to still be out here when night comes. The temperature'll drop." I say, and he gives me a nod of agreement. We set off again; the silence is broken my our feet crunching on the snow.

Finally, we reach the edge of the tundra.

I sigh. "Ugh. Let's head back, I guess; maybe we can go underground in that cave." I suggest. He shrugs uncaringly, and I take it as a, "whatever." I become aware that we're being followed about half-way through the journey. I turn to check once, playing it like I want to ask Herobrine something, and I do catch movement in the corner of my eye. But when I look there, it's gone. I lean in closer. "We're being followed." I whisper, and then smile at him as though I've said something reassuring. He nods at me. I turn back around, placing my hand on the hilt of my sword, ready to defend myself -and Herobrine, if he needs it.

I spin at Herobrine's gasp and pull my sword free. My blade slams into an arm that I mark as not Herobrine's by the pale skin. A scream meets the contact and I fly forward, slapping my hand over the culprit's mouth. We can't risk drawing attention to ourselves. My hand is slicked with blood as I pin the boy to the ground. He bites my hand, shouting behind it, so I bring my knee up and slam it into his throat, effectively cutting him off. I hear a thump behind me just before something throws me off of the boy violently. I land on my back, letting out a grunt of pain.

I question my vision at first, because two of the boy lean over me. But when one of them hauls me to my feet and the other bolts out of my vision to likely deal with Herobrine, I figure it out. Twins, or _extremely_ identical brothers, at the least. Something slams into my head and I vaguely identify it as an elbow. The boy drops me, and his blue eyes are as icy as they look, narrowed in a glare. I'd probably fall unconscious they like want if it weren't for Herobrine's cry of pain. I stumble to my feet, throwing weak punches, eyes wild as I move towards Herobrine.

"Herobrine..." I say, the word barely managing to get past my lips as I stumble and trip, crashing to the ground again, this time beside him. Blood gushes from a wound on his head and I close my eyes, not wanting to look. "W-what did they...?" I try to open my eyes, but no longer can. The elbow coems down on me again, and this time, I can't stay awake. I hear another outcry from Herobrine, and feel myself cringe as I drift into darkness.

**AN: CLIFF HANGER YE. Yeah, I'll update pretty soon, probably sometime later today.**

**This chapter is kind of short in comparison to the others, so, I kind of owe it to you guys.**

**Anyway.**

**I wrote the majority of this while watching **_**The Nightmare Before Christmas**_**, so if it's not so good, it's because I was slightly distracted. Good movie, that one.**

**Anyway (again).**

**You guys having a good end of the world?**

**Oh the fun of it all~**

**Adios.**

**~patatoes**


	12. Chapter 12: The Twins

I spend my first few moments of re-consciousness in a haze, my head swimming. Something touches my arm, and I recgonize the icy feel as Herobrine. I groan, slowly opening my eyes. It doesn't do much; the room we're in is pitch black. I try to murmur Herobrine's name, but it just comes out as incoherent moaning. As my head begins to clear up, I legitimately question if I might have brain damage. A light fills the area via a piece of glowstone being places, and I squint my eyes shut in pain, grunting to myself.

The noise of a slap fills the air, and I know that my cheek isn't smarting; my eyes snap open again to make sure Herobrine is alright. No, he's not. One of the boys who attacked us has a knee pressed against his chest, pinning him to the wall, yelling at him. He demands answers to question that Herobrine physically cannot answer. The wound on his head has clotted by now, but the boy holds a sword; I cringe and Herobrine shouts as he slashes him in the arm.

"S-stop!" I yell, on my feet in an instant. I'm not much of a threat, though, as I stumble, leaning into the wall for support. My hand flies to my belt, but both it and my sword are gone. Of course. The boy tosses Herobrine to the ground, and I can tell by his confused expression that he's not sure if he should attack me or not. Because I'm a girl. This sparks a second surge of rage in me and it's enough for me to throw myself off of the wall and at him.

The second boy comes running into the room, grabbing wildly for me. He manages to steal my arm, but loses his grip as I stumble, sliding out of his grasp and slamming down on top of the glowstone. The room is englufed in darkness again, save the eerie silver glow of Herobrine's eyes. Back when I'd first met him, he didn't sleep much, so the fact that he basically glowed in the dark took some getting used to. His eyes snap shut, and I assume that he knows it'll get us away easier if they can't see their glow.

I grit my teeth to fight the stinging in my arms and back, as the shards of glowstone have slashed at them relentlessly. "Herobrine." I growl, and _someone_ follows it, coming in my direction. A hand wrappes around my forearm. It's warm. I kick out with my heels, landing one of the boys in the gut, and he falls back with a cry. The next hand that touches me is cold and I grab onto it without hesitation. We run, Herobrine's squinted eyes vaguely lighting the way. I notice our things somewhere in the room and leave his side for just a moment to collect them; I rejoin him in seconds. We meet an iron door with no lever, and every painful second I spend pounding it with my fist feels like an eternity. But, finally, because of the physics of this world, it falls, and sunlight engulfs us. We dash out into it.

The two boys follow just seconds after us, and I take them in as I glance over my shoulder, not pausing in our run. They have the same icy blue eyes, but one of them has dark hair, and the other's is white-blond, probably dyed. The dark haired boy has a bandage wrapped firmly around his right arm and I infer that he must have been the one that I cut yesterday. Or maybe it was just a few hours ago; I have no way of knowing.

Something rams into my back and as I lift my free hand to pull it out, I pale; it's an arrow. Herobrine's grip on my hand tightens and I don't have enough strength to resist as he yanks me in front of him, so that his back covers mine. I yell my disagreements; he ignores me. That's how it's always been, so it's no huge shock. I risk a second glance behind me. The two boys are gaining, one of them holding the bow that must have lodged the arrow in my back, the second holding an iron sword and lifting a pale blue potion to his lips...

"Swiftness potion." I pant to Herobrine as I spin back around. I catch the glint of his white teeth grinning, and I know he'd be telling me some kind of stupid plan right now if he could. I get the feeling my hunch is correct as he tosses me into the air like I weight nothing. I catch his drift, slamming my hands forward to grip the blocks of leaves and haul myself on top of the tree. Sometimes me and Notch talked about what Minecraftia was like before. He mentioned some fun things that his people did. He didn't dwell much on parkour, but did mention it was basically skillful jumping; I infer this is what Herobrine had in mind as I leap to the tree to my left, barely catching Herobrine leap up onto a different tree in the corner of my eye. I also catch a flash of dark hair that I identify as the swift boy. I leap to the next tree a bit faster.

We went East, so the cave must be West. The only thing I worry about is leading the crazy twins back to the rest of the group. Sure, we'd have strength in numbers, but they're clearly are well-stocked, so I'd rather not risk it. I halt my consistent jumping for a moment, pulling open my backpack and bringing out my own bow. I fire an arrow at the white-blonde haired boy. It _just_ grazes his arm. Not good enough. I force myself to keep moving, leaping over tree after tree.

I glance to my left and see that Herobrine has caught up. Good; I'd go down with him before I left him behind. I notice with dismay that the sun is beginning its slow descent downward. I pause again, rummaging through my bag until I find my glasses. This is one of the few advantages we have -unless of course they have night vision potions. The world grows roughly ten times brighter as I place them atop my face and I squint until my eyes adjust.

The dark haired boy, still adorning swirling blue particles of speed, tosses himself up to grip my tree. He's a flash, and I barely have enough time to slam my golden boot down on his hand. He yelps and falls; I keep moving. I dig a hand into my pocket and pull out two potions the witch gave me for emergencies only -I'd consider this to be one.

"Herobrine!" I shout, gaining his attention. I toss the potion through the air, praying he catches it. He does. Still running, we both raise the pale violet liquid to our lips and down it in seconds. He vanishes before my eyes and I know I've done the same to him. Since we can no longer see each other, I can only hope he stays close. I remove my boots and force my bag inside my jacket, rendering me completely invisible. I drop down from the treetops, knowing there's no need anymore.

The blonde boy practically growls in his anger. "Where'd they go?" he demands of his brother, who can only shrug. He groans. "Well, they were heading West; let's keep going that way. We can't lose them -they can explain..."

I get out of hearing range. The dark haired boy passes me within seconds and I turn for a moment, watching his brother strain to catch up. I stare for a moment too long, not quite aware that he's so close to; he crashes into me. Being smaller than him, I fly backwards and land a few feet away while he just stumbles and quickly recovers. He looks around wildly -by now the sun has set, and darkness has settled in- unsure of his bearings.

"Alex!" he shouts, eyes wide with panic. He recieves no reply. "Alex!" he yells again. I want to tell him to stop -he'll attract Wither skeletons if he doesn't. But I can't give myself away. Snow begins to fall gently from the still darkening sky. "N-no..." he pleads with whatever unseen forces may exist. "Please..."

I turn, knowing my directions just fine. Just as I begin a slow job, heading "home", a tear an agonized weep escape from behind me. I hesitate, knowing that if I leave him, he'll die. With a sigh, I full open my jacket, plunging a hand inside my backpack and pulling out my compass. I'd made a new one just a few days ago, knowing it would be wise to have it, and of course I hoped I wouldn't lose this one as well. Unfortunately, it seems I'll have to -for morality. I drop the compass into the snow, just within his line of vision. His eyes light up and I run before he dives for it.

I hear a cry of satisfaction somewhere behind me, but I don't stop. After what feels like hours of running -but must have only been minutes, since I still have an invisibility effect- the area around me becomes familiar. Not long after that I see torchlight, and finally, just as the haziness I'd been feeling subsides and visibility returns to me, I see the others. Herobrine sits with the witch who fussily mutters things about how if he was smarter, he would have returned unscathed. He shoves her away when I enter, and wraps his arms firmly around me. I allow him this for a moment before I break away; we have bigger priorities.

"We need to go." I say to the others, and elaborate at Notch's quirked eyebrow. "Two boys -twins I think, they're following us. They're the ones who cut up Herobrine. They've got a lot of supplies; it would probably be for the best if we go."

"Wait." Dan says from somewhere across the room, and I feel relief swell up inside me at the fact that he's safe. I'm not sure why. "You said there's only two of them; we outnumber them." he says, thinking with brawn, as always. "And I don't know if you've noticed, but we're well-stocked, too. We don't need to go anywhere."

I sigh in anger. "Look, we may not _need_ to, but it's wiser to not risk-"

"Avery." his eyes hold the same agression mine do. "We're not going anywhere."

"Yes," I growl, glaring at him. "We are."

Notch steps in between us, which puzzles me until I realized I crossed to the room to get in his face. "Look, both of you, just stop." he says, extending his hands to push us apart. "Avery's right -it's best not to take our chances. We don't know anything about those two; they could be killers. Daniel, we have children with us," he glances at Marcia and Dera. "And we can't risk putting them in any unnecessary danger."

Dan huffs. "Fine."

I have to work hard to keep a smirk from appearing on my face. There's still more to be done. "_Actually_," I say, earning the attention of those around me -all but Dan, who faces the wall, probably sulking. "I want to stay behind with someone. Those two need to be dealt with; we can't just keep running. Not to mention if it comes to it...they have good supplies." I cross toward Dan again, placing a hand on his shoulder, half-gaining his attention. "And I can't take them on alone." I say, and this seems to do it, as he looks at me, hesitating only a moment before he nods, half smiling. "Good. Sil, you're staying-" I pause at the shrill gasp the witch lets out, then sigh. "-not you, witch, you need to go with Herobrine in case he reopens his wounds or...something. Ander, do whatever you want. Notch, take the others with you and go."

Herobrine frowns, and opens his mouth to say something. He then remembers he can't and closes it.

Notch gently places a hand on his shoulder. "Come, brother, I think you've seen more than enough adventure for today; let's go." he collects the witch, Carrie, and the children with the two of them before they head out to exit, Herobrine dragging his feet in futile resistance.

Ander shifts from one leg to the other. "What now, oh genius chosen one?"

I glare at her. "_Now_ we wait for those two boys to show up. I guess we jump 'em. Four on two; those are pretty good odds."

Dan nods. "What'd they look like?"

I shrug, but explain anyway. "They were twins -both looked about...fourteen? Yeah, that sounds about right. They had blue eyes, and one of them had brown hair, but it looked like the other dyed his blonde. Kind of tall, I guess. Brunette has a nice gash on his arm -I put it there." I say, and Dan grins, but makes no form of reply. "Blondie _might_ have a cut on his, too, I hit him with an arrow." I tell him, and that jogs my memory on something. "Oh, yeah, darn it, one of them shot me in the back." I turn so I'm no longer facing him. "Is it bad?"

Dan's sharp intake of breath answers for me, but since I can't see it, I don't turn around. "Ah, damn." he moves closer to me. "Ugh; you should've let the witch stay. This is...pretty bad." he mutters, and I desperately try to look over my shoulder and down onto the wound, but it's _just_ out of my range of vision. I see the blood, though, and am overcome by a wave of nausia -Dan keeps me on my feet. "Hey," he murmurs, suddenly closer than I though. "It'll be alright. Maybe you should just sit this one out; we can handle-"

"No!" I snap, pulling away from him. "They hurt Herobrine and I'm gonna make them pay!" I stagger forward, fumbling to pull my cyan blade free from my belt -the task suddenly extremely difficult for some reason. I fumble with it for a moment before giving up and pulling my backpack off of my shoulder to grab my bow instead. I tug the zipper for a while with no results before realizing I'm pulling it in the wrong direction. When I pull my bow out and notch an arrow, I find my hands are trembling to much to shoot it properly. I mutter a curse word under my breath.

"Listen," Ander says, by my side in an instant. "You should just lie down -sit this one out. Sil _alone_ could handle two jerks like them. You don't need to worry about it. And if you really need to, you can make them suffer when you wake up." she promises.

I stare into her swirling gray eyes for a moment before huffing, nodding, and leaning against the wall, sliding down into a state of sitting as I let my eyes fluttered closed. I'm asleep in seconds. And, of course, _for_ seconds. My eyes snap open at the stomping of feet as the two boys storm in. Brunette -or Alex, I guess, going by what his brother yelled- sees me and dives for me instantly, no more hesitation in him as he goes for the hair. A dirty move, but an understandable one nonetheless.

Dan pries him off of me before he can do any damage, and I watch Sil beat the blonde to a pulp out of the corner of my eye. Both boys end up collapsing on the ground, writhing in pain. Just following his basic "programming", Sil rears back for the final strike, but I fly to my feet, rushing to stand over the two boys for reasons I can't fathom.

"No, Sil. It's okay -see?- you got 'em." I praise and the Iron Golem nods at me before turning to thunder around the room aimlessly. I crouch down to the took the two of them over. Blood rushes quickly from the brunette's nose, and the wound I cut into his arm has been re-opened. Taking the majority of Sil's beating, the blonde has a nice collection of bruises on his face, and his arm is bent at a violent angle that _has_ to make it broken. I feel something close to panic stir inside me, even though they're strangers -not to mention the fact that they tried to kill me. Regardless, I haul the blonde to his feet, pulling his good arm around over my shoulder. I shoot Dan an expectant glance and he huffs in annoyance before stooping down and helping the brunette to his feet.

"What now?" he asks.

I sigh. "Well, I guess we try and catch up with Notch and the others. These two defenitely need to see the witch."

Dan raises an eyebrow. "You do, too."

I shrug. "Yeah, yeah. Let's just get going. The last thing we need is-"

The blonde steps wrong as I haul him along and I realize he must have a bad ankle as well as he screams in pure agony. The screech stretches on no matter how much effort I put into silencing him, it still echoes around us for what must be miles.

I swear. That will attract them. Hundreds of them. "We need to go, _now_." I snap, and no one argues. We stumble along for a while, heading in the direction the others went, before the crunch of charred bones pulls the problem back to attention. I spare a glance over my shoulder. Dozens of them have already collected and follow us at their ever so slow pace. The only problem? There's more in front of us. And some on the sides. They're boxing us in. I swear one more, shifting the blonde boy on my shoulder over to Ander. Her and Dan shoot me questioning glances as I shrug my bow back onto my shoulder and pull my sword loose from its sheath. I still tremble, but adreneline has put it in better control. "Get out of here." I say slowly, carefully.

"What?" Dan asks, eyes wide in shock. "No; they'll kill you!"

I grit my teeth. "I know that. But they'll give all of of us if you don't _get out of here_." I explain. "Go -_now_!"

Dan looks from me to the way they need to go and back to me. "You're mad."

I half grin. "Maybe." I shrug. "Now go." I say, and wait for them to vanish from sight. I begin screaming, drawing in the attention of the one's that may have been focused on them -not to mention all the others who were already making their way towards me. I take a few deep breaths, closing me eyes, thinking. I spin at the first swing of stone blade, slashing with my own bright blue sword and decapitating the damned thing. Another deep breath. Another swing. Another head. Already I feel winded. I can't keep this up forever -but I have to. It's fight or die, and frankly, I don't really feel like dying today.

It must be the tenth one that finally hits me with the blunt force of the stone, smashing in the bone of my arm. I kill it, but more soon surround me, smashing their dull and yet sharp instruments of damage into me. I still kill them; all of them. But more just keep coming. The only thing that keeps me going is the thought that Dan and the others got away. They _must_ have. This is what keeps me smiling as the full force of the stone smashes into my skull. My knees buckle and I fall, but I still smile.

Dan and the others got away.

**AN: *Ahem***

**I'M TRAPPED, I CAN'T GO BACK~**

**I MADE THE CHOICE TO STAY~**

**AND WE'LL FIGHT~**

**KEEP DEFENDING THROUGH THE NIGHT (WE'LL FIGHT THE GOOD FIGHT)~**

**LIVE...WE'RE ALL DRIVEN TO SURVIVE (WE'LL FIGHT THE GOOD FIGHT)~**

**I'LL KEEP GOING, JUST STAY BY MY SIDE~**

**Cube Land, everybody.**

**...Yeah.**

**Bye bye.**

**~patatoes**


	13. Chapter 13: The Irritum

**WARNING: This chapter contains some vulgar language because angry Dan is angry. Read at own risk.**

I wake up the first time with my arms held tightly on either side of me. Though my vision is hazy and my head is swimming, I take note of the fact that I'm no longer in the Taiga; I recognize the sound of my feet catching on...sand? A desert, then. I've never been a fan of sand -the way the little grains of it get everywhere; it's infuriatingly frustrating to get off. I'm only awake for a few seconds -not nearly enough time to loathe the damned sand to my heart's content- before I fall back into unconsciousness. It's given me enough information to prepared though, as Notch contacts me. I swivel around in the chair without a care as I wait for the meeting to begin.

Notch clears his throat, catching the attention of myself and the ditzy members of Scwerf. "Welcome back, everyone." he says, and his eyes catch on me. "We have much to discuss; to begin with, Avery, we should probably talk about your...predicament."

I sulk. "It was me or all of them; I wasn't ready to let my friends die because of me."

Notch raises an eyebrow. "It wasn't your fault."

I shake my head. "I insisted on saving those two boys. Not to mention I'm the one who made the blonde scream. It's all my fault." I say, sighing, but something sticks in my brain and I catch myself drifting off again. _All my fault._

Notch sighs as well. "You did the right thing -the noble thing- and all that matters is they didn't kill you. But...they'll treat you like one of theirs."

I raise my eyebrows. "What do you mean?"

Notch goes on. "They'll be under the impression that you're an escaped Testificate; they don't take kindly to that. They'll take you before the Wither himself -he'll give the judgement. Ordinarilly it'll end with a lashing that teaches the poor Testificate not to do it again, and then it'll be over. Unfortunately-" I fight back a sigh, "-after that they'd throw you back into the city. After that, escape would be almost impossible. That's why they're leanient enough to not kill the Testificates who escape; clearly if they're strong enough to get out, they're strong enough to help keep the place going. So, naturally, if they thought you were strong enough to escape, they'd keep an even closer eye on you."

I bite my lip. "So?"

"So," Notch repeats me. "You're going to have to convinve them you're not a Testificate if you want even a _chance_ at getting away." he says. "If they believe you're not one of theirs, then they'll keep you in the Wither's _castle_ for interrogation, most likely. They don't keep files on this stuff, so convince them; it's your only shot."

I nod just once. "Alright." I allow silence to settle over the room for a moment before I move on to what's been tugging at my mind. "How is everyone? And those two...er...boys?"

Notch shrugs. "The twins are under the influence of drugs right now, deep sleep, wounds healing, other stuff... I'm mostly just worried about Dan and Herobrine. You've been gone for a little under a day, and neither of them have slept, even though it's probably been a good day or so since they last did. It's not good."

I sigh. "Doesn't sound like it."

"Indeed." Notch says, calling our "private" conversation to an end as he moves right along. "Jean, how's Ed feeling?" he asks politely. Jean goes on to explain that though he _was_ feeling an uncontrollable rage and the primal instinct to tear me limb from limb, but after they gave him a light administration of water, a lethal form of therapy that cannot be matched by any other, he calmed down a bit. "That's good." Notch says with a grin. "Jeb," he says, facing the red-head now. "How's are the _"h"_ dimensions holding up?"

"The _"h"_ dimensions?" I ask, confused as ever.

"Oh, the Nether and the Aether." Notch elaborates. "Hell and Heaven, you know?" he asks, and I nod. "So we call them the _"h"_ dimensions, and Jeb here is in charge of keeping them in order while we try and sort out this whole...Overworld has been taken over by evil three-headed demon from the Void thing." he says, clapping his hands together and turning back to face Jeb.

Jeb half-smiles. "So far they're still in order, Herobrine's little..._expedition_ caused a _bit_ of rioting among his former subjects, but nothing we couldn't control." he shoots a glance at Lydia who nods. She must be his right hand man -or woman, for that matter. "As for the Aether, all is in order, they are of course better suited for handling these kind of things, and they have all the faith in the world in you and Avery."

Notch nods. "We won't let them down. Most of the group written about has assembled."

I raise my eyebrows. "Really? Who?"

Notch smiles. "Well, you of course, and Daniel. And then there's Ander; sour taste she is. That's three." he says, holding up three fingers and shoving them in my direction like I'm dumb. I smile. "And then Alex and Adam make five. Just two more."

I frown. "Who's Adam?"

"Oh, the other twin. The blonde." he explains, and I toss him a nod. Adam and Alex. The two boys who tried to kill Herobrine. Who are apparently also written about in that book that I can't find the time to read. I certainly won't be getting that chance for a while now. "It took a bit of..._aggressive questioning_ to get their names." he says, cracking a grin. "At first they wouldn't give them up, but then Daniel got a bit...upset, and..." he bursts out laughing. "Oh, you should see it for yourself." he says with a chuckle, materializing a ball of what appears to light in front of him and giving it a gentle push in my direction. An image of Dan appears within the swirling glow. The brunette boy is laying on the ground under him while he shoves the blonde up again the wall.

_"It wasn't a fucking question, asshole! Tell me your god damn names!"_

The blonde says nothing.

_"My friend is probably fucking _dead_ because of you! You think I won't kill you?!"_

To prove his point, Dan raises his iron blade, putting it against the boy's throat, applying _just_ enough pressure to draw a few drops of blood. The already sickly pale boy goes white.

_"Dan; cool it."_

_ "Shut the fuck up, Ander! Tell me your god damn names already!"_

_"A-Adam. And my brother's name is Alex. P-please don't kill me. Please."_

Dan discards him like he's trash, and the ball of light disintegrates.

Notch is still having a fit of laughter. "Oh, their faces. All of them. Daniel was the most delightful shade of red -ha!" he continues with this until Lydia has the nerve to slap him out of his lunatic-ish state. He calms immediately. "Anyway, let's see, what else is there to discuss, Jeb?"

Jeb looks down upon a clipboard sitting at attention in his lap. "I...think that's everything. Oh, yes, the firework production is coming along nicely." he says, and catches my confused expression. "Oh -the fireworks are being made so we can celebrate after we retake our land. Like in Star Wars."

I grin. "Nice." I turn to Notch. "Your idea?"

Notch shares in my strange care-free attitude. "Herobrine's, actually. Taking down his sick creation has been his goal since minute one; he's our biggest asset." he says. "It'll also serve as a signal in the event of something going wrong; they display different messages -it all depends on the shape and color. Jeb and Lydia have the codes memorized; they're generally the ones who handle such things. Herobrine also took the time to look them over -he wants that demon dead more than all of us combined."

I think about the sheer rage and agony I felt when Herobrine was delivered back to us, tongue and most likely will to live severed. "I doubt that." I mutter in a barely audible tone, and Notch offers me a subtle nod. I truly think he's the only one who understands. The Wither _needs_ to die; it hurt Herobrine, the only person I've ever _truly_ trusted here -aside from Notch. It has to be punished for that. Not to mention the fact that the Wither has essentially destroyed this world. And the fact that it has infected me with some disease that to this very moment is slowly killing me.

Notch sighs. "Well, you -or your body, rather- has reached the city. I suppose you should be on your way." he says. "Good luck, Avery. May Minecraftia have its faith in you."

I smirk. "Don't be cheesy; I could die."

He grins. "Exactly." he says, and evidently decides there's no time to waste. He snaps his fingers, and the Scwerf meeting room swirls and then vanishes before my eyes. It's replaced by an overwhelming darkness that I break by opening my eyes. My senses are clearer this time and I'm more aware of the dull throbbing in my head, and the still sharp pain in my arm. Is it broken? That would be an inconvenience. I blink a few times, clearing the last few dark specks from my vision, and take in the scene around me.

I know that this is the city, and that's the only reason I even slightly believe it. If I hadn't been told prior, I would have laughed at the very prospect. The wooden houses are hideous -caved in and worn to the bound of losing some of the blocks that composed it. A few buildings are at least decent, though these are mainly composed of cobblestone, and appear to be the more official places -trading posts, blacksmiths, and other essentials. Though the largest and clearly most well made structure is clearly the castle, composed of bedrock, obsidian, and stone bricks. The mere size is intimidating, and I know this is my destination before the skeleton's even turn to head inside.

I am not hauled off to the Wither first. First they toss me into some kind of cell, complete with iron bars and a matching iron door. Classy. It notice the blood staining the sleeve of my jacket where I was stuck as I strain it pulling up my hood. Not good. I do the instinctual thing, pull the sleve up and look the wound over. I grow pale when it enters my line of vision. There's a lot of blood and mangled flesh, and it might just be the fear blinding me, but I think I see white, which means bone. I cringe and look away. I'm not sure applying pressure would do anything for this aside from bring me pain, so I don't do it. I just pull my sleeve back down and sit in silence and wait.

A Testificate with emotionless green eyes comes for me some time later, swinging the door open and gesturing outward with his elbow. "Come." he says simply, and I have no room to disagree, some I follow him through countless corridors, trying to ignore the stinging pain in my arm. We reach a set of large doors some time later, and he pushes them open, gesturing for me to enter. I sigh, closing my eyes and mustering up my courage, before I do.

I'm greeted by not the whole Wither, but just one of the heads. My eyes flit away, as I wasn't expecting this. The Wither can dislodge its heads, and that's just disturbing. It lifts its blank eyes, similar to those of Herobrine, and its wide open mouth closes and stetches into a smile. It's slightly smaller than that of the Wither's main head, so I assume this is either the left or the right. Its eyes follow me as I walk slowly forward until I'm stranding just in front of it. There's a throne, but since this is just a head, and even the full Wither only hovers, I assume it's only for show.

"Hello." the charred skull softly purrs, and then says nothing, as if waiting for a response. Surely it doesn't expect me to actually reply -only a moron would do that. "Welcome to the city, we call this place _Irritum_. That's Latin for void." it says, and all the while its empty eyes rake over me, assessing me. "You're not a Testificate." it states, and I realize I won't have to do any convicing at all. "That much is obvious; we don't infect ours. They have to keep working." it says, and it must be talking about the withering. It would likely know _plenty_ about that. "I'll give you the chance to explain your worth now -give me a reason not to kill you, child."

I grit my teeth, clenching my fists as I take a step forward. "Because you'll regret that in the long run." I say, and it doesn't respond, so I take it as a nudge to elaborate. "I'm sure you're more than aware of the fact that Notch himself is going to destroy you. I know him -he's a friend of mine- and unless you want a martyr fuelling his already boiling need to kill you, I'd refrain from ending me here."

The creature before me smirks, a cruel thing, and I unconsciously identify it the right head -the one that smirked when Herobrine was taken. "You've got quite the mouth on you girl -you might have the second tongue we need to remove. Just this month!" the monster says it like it's a truly exasperating thing, when it's really nothing but sick. It makes me shake with rage, as he's referring to removing Herobrine's tongue like it was a chore. "Ah, fine, you've won me over with those big words of yours." it moves as it speaks, slowly cirling around me now. It only increases the feeling of unease I have. "Amusing." it chuckles. "I'll call someone to treat that arm of yours and then we can have a civil conversation. We'll see how many more wounds you have by the end of it." it grins, letting out another low chuckle.

I'm taken out of the room sometime later by a different Testificate, this one a young woman, her face void of any youth, tainted by the stress she must feet everyday. She ends up being some kind of doctor, and takes care of the wound. It ends up taking quite a few stitches, but I'm glad to find it _was_ just my imagination that made me see bone. After she's finished, she offers me two drinks, both of which she gently says I can't refuse. The first is water, and I down it without a care. The second, however, it a gray potion, slightly darker than the ones of invisibilty. I know what it is immediately, as the witch told me to watch out for them. A potion of weakness. I have no choice but to drink it under her watchful gaze, and when I've finished she leaves the room, knowing I'm no threat any longer.

Drowziness washes over to me, and I'm dizzy as I force myself onto my feet. I grab wildly for one of the other potions sitting on a tray on tob of a table. The sickly green color of the poison alone repells me, but I found it to my lips, swallowing it quickly. I run for the trash can as the contents of my stomach come up, both brews leaving my system. I spend a few moments on the ground, still retching slightly, trying to recover. After I finally right myself, I look for an exit aside from the door. There's a window, but the outside isn't quite what I'm after -if I head out into the city, sticking out like the sore thumb I am, I'll just be brought back here.

The doctor re-enters and I pounce on her without thinking. She's stunned, likely having expected me to be unconscious or at least unaware. This gives me enough time to deliver a few punches, followed by me slamming her head violently against the ground. She's rendered unconscious. I act quickly, pulling her light brown robe off of her body and around mine, holding my hands entertwined in front of me, mimicking the mannerisms of a Testificate. I enter the hallway, hanging low, trying not to be seen. There's advantages to being a child -no one notices me.

I'm able to slip into the city without incident. I find the exit quickly, but it's guarded by two Wither skeletons, and without my sword or bow, I'm unable to take them out. I took around in the streets for anything that might be used as a weapon, but the best I can pull together is a withered wooden plank. Useless, really. I sigh, deciding it's the best I can do, and that an escape oppurtunity may not come again, so I'll have to use it. I'm just about to bolt towards the exit, plank swinging wildly, when I see her. Her big blue eyes watch her as her shaky hands brush through her tangled red hair. I can almost see the baby creeper in her arms, but it's not there. I run towards Marcia before realizing that it's just a woman.

"May I help you?" she asks in a voice straining with tension.

I hesitate before I speak. "Do you know a girl named Marcia?"

She takes her time in answer, hesitating just as I did. "I...I had a daughter named Marcia. I lost her and my husband when our village was destroyed. I was brought here to begin repopulating and to work in the _Irritum's_ mining branch. Why do you ask?"

I smile at her eagerly. "Marcia's alive. She's with my friends, outside the city."

Her eyes like up and a smile stretches across her face. "And my husband?"

I drop my head. "...I'm sorry." I say, and the smile vanishes from her hand, and she nods curtly. "You said you're a miner...I don't suppose you have a weapon of any kind?" I ask innocently, trying not to show my intentions. She shrugs before nodding. "Do you think I could...borrow it?"

Her frown deepens. "Cutting doesn't help."

I frown as well. "No, not for that. I need to get out of here. If you could just let me borrow it..." I trail off, and she sternly shakes her head, mumbling things about how that's foolish. "Listen," I say, placing my hand gently on her shoulder; she recoils. "I need to get out of here. If you want the world to get back to normall...if you want to see your daughter again...please," I finally say, my eyes pleading with her. "I have to get out of here. If I don't...this world might have no hope."

She stares at me for a long moment before finally reaching into a bag she has and pulling out an iron sword. "Keep my daughter safe." she says, turning on her heel and walking away.

I turn as well. I waste no time, running until my sword impales the head of the first skeleton. The second turns to me, raising its sword, poising to kill. I decapitate it before it even comes close. I force open the iron gates, pushing out and into the wilderness, staying close to the bright brown tree bark that blends nicely with my robe in the Jungle. I run for a long time until I'm sure I'm at least a few miles away. That should be enough distance. I realize I didn't prepare very well. I have no idea where I am, and I have no food to keep me going if the journey to get back turns long. I have faith in Notch though, he'll let me know what to do in the next dream I have. Until then, the clouds travel North, and Taigas should be in the North.

I set off, not realizing I'm still relatively close to the village until I begin hearing explosions.

**AN: **

**I wrote this chapter in bed, cuddling with my stuffed dog that I name Leroy Jenkins.**

**...**

**That's it.**

**~patatoes**


	14. Chapter 14: The Beginning

I don't stop when the explosions and cries of agony shrilly hit the air. I keep running until my legs crumple under me, and judging by the sun's position in the sky, it's been a few hours in this place. I'm still in the jungle though. I pull the robe closer around me as I close my eyes, trying to fool myself into thinking I'm in bed, the others nearby. But as rain begins to fall I realize tricking myself won't be an option. I crawl rather than walk under the semi-cover of the higher leaves on a tree. I flick the hood on the robe up and press myself against the tree, closing my eyes and trying to get necessary sleep. My unconscious shifting is the only thing that keeps the arrow from entering my chest.

My eyes snap open, and I stumble to my feet. What can I do? I don't have anything with me, and the sword Marcia's mother is close to breaking in two. I use it now to severe the skeleton's head from its shoulders, but I know even as I do this that it will snap soon enough. I decide to go for higher -therfore safer- ground. I grip the vines with one hand, still gripping the sword in the other, and climb the uneven patches until I mkae it to the second level of leaves. Knowing this is safer, I curl up face down so that the occasional droplet of water falling through the leaves doesn't hit me directly. I drift off soon enough, and find myself once again in one of Notch's soft leather chairs.

He wastes no time getting right to it, not even needing to silence the other members of Scwerf, as they already sit at silent attention. "What do you think you need?" he asks, more serious than he's even been around me.

I take a breath. "A bow. A sword, maybe. Food, of course. And I'm a bit lost so a compass wouldn't hurt. Oh, and if you could magically poof up a bed and make it stop raining, that'd be nice."

Notch sighs, pinching his nose, eyes scrunched closed. He opens them. "Alright. After they told Herobrine the news he went looking for you. Of course you were gone, but he found your backpack. I might be able to get that back to you. I can't adjust the weather though without gaining the Wither's attention, so that's out of my power. If I can get your backpack to you, I'll slip a blanket in it. That's the most I can do."

I nod. "It's plenty; thank you."

He nods as well. "It's nothing. Tell me -what did you see in the city?"

I close my eyes for a moment, reflecting on the horrors. When I open them, I'm ready to speak. "I woke up after the meeting as they were dragging me through the streets. The buildings were caved in and ugly, all except for one, the most menacing one. The Wither's castle. They through me in a cell until I needed to go speak with...it. It was just one of the heads, not the whole thing. It was the sadistic one, the one that was all for taking Herobrine." I shudder slightly as the memory of the maimed Herobrine comes back to me. I push it aside. "Threatened to do to me what they did to him. When they took me, they gave me some bad wounds. Some woman patched them up and made me drink a potion of weakness. I'm not sure why -probably to make sure I didn't get away. I did though.

I drank a different potion and vomited them both up. When she came back I jumped her and took her robe. I ran; no one noticed me. I was just about ready to make some stupid attempt at getting away when I saw her." I pause at Notch's questioning glance. "Marcia's mom." I say, and his eyes widen in surprise. "She's alive...not the father. She gave me a sword and I got out. I'm in the jungle now. I'm not sure where to go..."

Notch offers me a single nod. "Right. I'll tell Marcia; she'll be so happy." he smiles and I can see his fondness for her in his eyes. "As for where to go, the compass will guide you. You'll pass through the rest of the jungle, a desert -if I'm not mistaken- and then back through the tundra. You'll be back with us before you know it!" he says encouraginly.

"I know." I half-smile. "Well, I guess I don't have much time to waste. Mind if I leave a bit early?" I say, glancing at the Scwerf members scattered about in their seats.

Notch smiles as well. "Of course. Good luck, Avery. May Minecraftia have its fai-"

"Is that your new catch phrase or something?" I quip.

He grins wider. "I hope so. Rather nice, isn't it?" he asks, all the while standing up and crossing the room only to gently place his hand on my forearm. "I have faith in you, too." he says, his grin falling into just a small smile. I want to thank him, perhaps embrace him, but I'm aware of a numbness in my lips and everywhere else that keeps me from saying anything. Instead of Notch, I'm embraced by a familiar darkness that swirls before my eyes before taking me in its grasp completely.

I snap upward, eyes flashing everywhere before my senses return to me and I flop backwards on the leaves with a sigh. I push myself up on my elbows a minute or so later, gently sliding the near-broken iron sword into a pocket stitched onto the robe and tying said robe gently around my waist, as the rain has gone, and the jungle is quite humid. I look around for a moment before a bold blue that doesn't match any part of the jungle -except for a lake in the distance- catches my eye. I slide rather less-than-gracefully down the vines and collect it, zipping it open and fondly giving its contents a one-over. _Everything Notch promised_, I note with a smile. I decide to keep the robe instead of immediately ditching it for my pale black leather jacket. The robe will blend in better with my surroundings on the trek back to the Taiga.

I pull out a piece of ever so rare chicken and take my time in eating it before I pluck out my weapons and tools, placing them on the various loops on my belt that I gingerly pull around my waist over the robe. After most of the objects in the bag have gone, I notice the note and white oval beside it. I lift the paper to my eyes, following it by gently placing my reading glasses over them, and look it over.

_Thought you might get lonely. His name's 11. He'll help._

_ -HIM_

I look over the paper for an extra moment before I pull what I know can see is an egg closer to my line of vision. What do I do? Throw it? I sigh and rear back with my arm, doing just that. The egg smashes against the tree, eggshell flying everywhere, nothing coming out of it. I sigh, glancing at the note once more before rolling my eyes and tucking it back in my bag and removing my glasses. What was supposed to happen? I shrug my bag farther up my shoulder and continue on my journey.

And then a chicken materializes before me.

I yelp, flying backwards and tripping over my feet, landing roughly on the jungle floor. I glare at the "beast", hand flying towards my diamond blade. And then I realize what I'm doing and roll my eyes, mentally slapping myself. It's just a chicken! I look it over and realize it's missing something. Where one might find tiny black pupils, while nothingness rests instead. The white feathers covering the chicken make it almost look like it has no eyes at all, but the wide, silvery eyes glow under the heavy covering of leaves. Herobrine sent this thing. Eleven, was it? I pull myself back to my feet, quietly murmuring the name Herobrine gave me. The chicken's head snaps in my direction, and I dig around in my bag for a moment before presenting it with the note. The milky eyes wash over it for a moment before it looks away, and I place it back in my bag, pulling out my compass in its place. "Let's go, then...I guess."

We walk in silence -not that I expect the chicken to spark a conversation. After roughly an hour, I grow tired, and we stop to rest. Much more tired than I thought, I almost fall asleep against a tree trunk in the middle of eating my bread; Eleven's sharp cluck pulls me back to reality. We begin walking again, and relief fills me as grass transitions into sand, the desert forming before my eyes. We're going the right way! Eleven is silent through out the whole trip, save a flew clucks every now and then that ordinary old chickens might do. At one point we actually encounter an ordinary chicken. Eleven locks eyes with it. The poor thing drops dead or at least unconscious in seconds. I make a point to not look at him for the rest of the walk.

The sun begins falling by the time we reach the Taiga. Wolves litter the area; I offer one a bone, but it's not enough to tame the rabid thing. I huff as it prances away, but know that I wouldn't have wanted it anyway; I have Carrie, and he's more than enough. A longing feeling swells up inside me at the thought of him as well as the others, but I stay true to the promise I made to Herobrine the day Dan brought him back, maimed and tongueless. I will _not_ cry. He was strong enough to give himself up and lose his tongue for me; I'm strong enough to hold back a few tears for him.

I find a cave. Eleven and I curl up in a corner, and I drape the blanket over us. He nestles against my back, but I feel no pressure from his presense. What is this thing? Some kind of spirit? Still, I wrap an arm around it in my sleep and feel heat radiating from the creature. Though that sense as well as the rest of them soon fade away from me as I slip into a not-so-peaceful sleep. Notch doesn't contact me, but I'm haunted by nightmares of swirling violet that take me to long hallways. I walk through them, hesitant at first, but I begin to run. I'm not sure why, but something fuels me to _get out_. I run into _Him_ before I can, and everything flashes white before I bolt up into consciousness, breathing heavily. Never before have I associated Herobrine with something bad, and I still don't. I blame guilt, and I settle with this as I shift, curling up against Eleven now and falling back into darkness. No more dreams, and I simply remain asleep until morning.

I wait for something close to half an hour before rising and rousing Eleven to begin walking again. The compass continues to lead my forward, and I half-smile as I find the first place we rested. The place where the boy screamed and I opted to be left to die. The others must be close nearby, then. I'm giddy as I head forward, fists curled tightly at my sides in anticipation. Eleven took to perching on my shoulder some time yesterday and does this now, his empty eyes -sharp as an eagle- squint into the distance, ready to warn me of any incoming danger. Danger is frankly the last thing I need right now. I walk for another hour before I find them.

Herobrine gets to me first, wrapping his arms tightly around me without relent. Eleven lets out a chirp that sounds genuinly happy. I bury my face in his shoulder, my breaths shallow as I try to wrap my mind around the fact that I'm safe now. Herobrine wouldn't let anyone hurt me, and I wouldn't let anyone hurt him. A noise somewhere between a whimper and a cry of relief escapes me and he just holds me tighter. Eventually we separate, though I'm not sure how long it takes. My eyes catch on Notch, and I murmur a quiet, "thank you" to him, to which he grins and nods. Something rams into my legs, knocking me flat on my back, and Eleven moves away just in time, gently fluttering to the ground so he musn't share my fate. I look up to meet eyes with my attacker, and let out a small squeak of joy. I fly forward, taking Carrie into my arms. I hold him tightly against my chest, enjoying the warmth that radiates from him.

Dan and Ander linger awkwardly to the side, watching the show. I pull my eyes away from them, but catch the stains of red in the corner of my eye, and flick them back up immediately. Dan's normally bright white shirt is covered in splotches of crimson, and Ander's darker attire has a single, humungous stain on the front of her pants. I release Carrie from my grasp, running to them, alarm clear on my face. I barely manage to ask, "What's that-?" before Dan cuts me off.

"It's uh...it's nothing." he says, and I don't have to work hard to see that lie. He sighs at my scowl and quirked eyebrow. "Fine." he mutters in a defeated tone. "Me and Ander escorted Marcia on a short quest to get that creeper home. We ran into one of the hunting parties-" he's referring to the ones the _Irritum_ sends to find any and all survivors, as we're wanted dead or alive. "-and it didn't go so good. Everyone's fine, but we got a little messed up, and Marcia's been out for a while. We lost the creeper -Dera, she called it?- and I don't think she's gonna take it very well..."

I feel a pang of sadness, but suppress it; it's the last thing I need right now. I offer their story a nod. "Poor Dera..." I murmur; I don't expect a response, and don't get one either.

"Hey," Dan finally mumbles, placing a crimson-coated hand on my shoulder. I don't recoil, so he doesn't pull away. "The little monster didn't deserve this world; he's in a better place now." he offers me a half-smile, and I do my best to return it. Our eyes meet, and I find my gaze lingering before he turns and I pull back with pink cheeks. I blame the fact that we're still in the Taiga, and I must be freezing. I open my backpack and pull out the blanket Notch lent me, wrapping it around my shoulders and hugging my knees to my chest in a corner.

"Ugh; Notch, she just won't drink the potions! I swear, no matter what the relation, Testificates and witches are _not_ alike!" a familiar voice pouts as someone enters the room. The witch's face lights up when she sees me. "You're back!" she exclaims, pouncing on me to wrap me in an embrace. Ordinarally I might have shoved her away, but I did miss her just as much as the others, and frankly, her body-heat is appreciated. "Sil and me missed you _so_ much! Not as much as Herobrine and lover-boy though." she says, offering Dan a wink that leaves both me and him slightly flustered, but we both say nothing. "Omigosh!" she gasps, her eyes catching on my arm. "Are you okay?! No. Of course you're not! Oh, let me get a potion of regeneration! Don't die on me now! I'll be right-"

"I'm fine." I snap, and instantly regret it when I see the look of hurt in her eyes, but I don't appologize, and she doesn't ask me to.

"Here." she mumbles, sliding me something across the floor.

I pick it up, discovering it to be some kind of book. "What is it?" I ask, flipping through the pages to find it's written in some unreadable code. "This doesn't make any sense..." I turn back to the cover, which has the only English in the entire thing. It reads, _"Infinity I"_, an odd title for a book. "Where did you-?"

"I wrote it." she cuts me off. "Stayed up all night making it for you." she says, and I can tell she's trying to make me feel guilty about being mean to her by the tone in her voice. "It's for your bow. _Infinity I_, it means that your bow only needs one arrow, and it will fire it infinitely. I'm also working on some other ones; flame, punch, sharpness... I'm the only one here who really speaks the language of mobs, so I'm the only one who can write them. And enchanting comes to me almost as good as brewing." she grins, and I can tell that by the end of her speech she's no longer cross with me.

"Thank you." I say with a sincere smile. "How do I..._enchant_-" I use the word she did with slight uncertainty, "-the bow with it?"

"Oh, right, how much iron do we have? Can't make an anvil without lots and lots of iron..." she murmurs to herself. We left most of our resources back at our main home, which we will hopefully be returning to soon, but until then, our iron supply stands at little to none. "Well," she declares. "We're in a cave; might as well collect some so we can make an anvil when we get home."

I nod. "Ander." I say, shooting a glance at the auburn-haired girl. "Wanna come mining with me?" I ask, more than aware that after the "fight" at the portal that there's some tension between us, but she's the only one I find capable of coming with me. I suppose Dan would be too, but I don't really feel like being anywhere alone with him right now. Ander nods, fumbling with a satchel on her side and pulling out a hefty iron pickaxe. I nod as well, pulling out my own diamond tool. "Let's go, then."

We go for a while, mining minerals upon sight. We encounter few mobs, as most of the Wither's hunting parties don't seem to travel out this far, and every other mob has become an endangered species. A few skeletons _do_ attempt an attack, though, and Ander ends up taking the most from the attack. One of the Wither skeletons landed a strong hit on her, and she ends up spewing black particles from seemingly ever opening in her body, collapsing onto the ground, dissoriented and pale. Black streaks her face as it begins to escape from her eyes. I figure out that they're actually tears when she begins to sob.

"Ander...what's wrong with you?" I demand, tearing open my backpack to try and find something that'll help her. I come up with nothing other than the blanket, which I press against her face, trying to stanch the flow of jet-black tears. Soon enough they begin coming through her mouth in a similar fashion to vomit. The color of her irises shifts from the gray they were to the same hideously dark black that consumes the rest of her. She screams through her sobs of pain. "Ander. God... I'll get you to the witch; she'll help you!" I struggle to bring Ander into my arms, before she won't be moved any other way, but she's older and bigger than me, and it just won't happen. I stumble, still holding her, and she both end up crashing into the ground. I feel my knee smarting, and upon yanking my pant leg up, I see blood, and come to the conclusion it's scraped. Ander screams again. "Just...hang on; I'll go get her! Don't die..." I plead, before running, leaving her in her state of agony -but what else can I do?

I get back to the surface relatively quickly, and offer no explanation as I grab the witch's arm, shouting at her to get health potions or milk or _something_. She questions me at first, but I shout and she runs to do as I ask. After that, we run, and I'm vaguely aware of Notch and Herobrine following, but not much else. When we return to Ander, I gesture furiously, yelling things that don't make much sense. The witch pulls out her milk bucket and an instant health potion. She forces them through Ander's lips one at a time, but she doesn't swallow, and they floor back out. She's no longer screaming, or crying, and she just lays there. It suddenly occurs to me that there could be a reason for that. My trembling hands rush to her throat, but no pulse greets my fingertips. I scream, stumbling backwards and away from the _corpse_. I crash into Herobrine, and he wraps his arms around me in a consoling fashion. I don't cry. I _can't_ cry. The witch does though. She screams and runs away from the scene, paler than before, tears running down her face. Notch goes after her, muttering something about how she'll get lost on her own. I stay in Herobrine's arms, shaking like a leaf, unable to wrap my mind around it.

_Ander's dead._

Herobrine takes control of the situation, grabbing my backpack off the ground and placing it on my back, taking my hand and leading me away from the scene. I try not to look back as we go. I mutter something to Herobrine though, averting my eyes as I stumble back towards the body, crafting and placing a stiff wooden sign on the ground beside her. I write a send off quickly before turning on my heel and walking away, a curtain of sorrow hanging over me. We get to the surface soon enough, and I find myself consoling a broken witch. She eventually just whimpers and pushes me away, burying her face in her pillow to cry it out. I don't pursue her; there's nothing I can do.

I take the stack and a half of iron me and Ander had collected and stuggle for a while with crafting before I manage to construct an avil. It takes me a while longer to figure out how to _use it_, but eventually I have a bow with _Infinity I_, and an anvil with a slight crack in it. I test it out on a cave wall; no matter how many times a notch an arrow, the number in my backpack never goes down. I eventually end of sitting by the witch again, Eleven with me. Perhaps he might cheer her up. I tap her on the shoulder, earning her attention, and her face lights up when she sees the little chicken. She envalopes him in an embrace that the animal doesn't fight. I think they both could use some warmth.

I excuse myself, crossing the room to sit and lean against the wall with Notch. We're both silent for a beat before I let out a sigh of exasperation. "It gets worse every day." I murmur, my mind wandering to Ander's pale skin and black eyes. "I just don't understand." I whimper, lifting my hands to bury my face. Not a single tear escapes me, but ragged breaths and choked sobs of sorrow do. Notch's arm pulls around me shoulder as he tries to calm me. But his words do nothing but chill me to the bone.

"This is just the beginning."

**AN: And there we have the meaningless death of OC #1. Well, not the first one that was introduced. But the first one that was submitted. And...that really has nothing to do with anything. Whatever.**

**~patatoes (:3)**


	15. Chapter 15: The Aftermath

I would have preferred having an eternity to mourn the loss -a day, at least; none of us were given it though. Another meeting of _Scwerf_ was necessary, though Notch simply went and relayed the information I'd given with on the _Irritum_, instead of making me come myself. I'm in no shape. I'm in no shape to sleep, either. As I'd seen what Ander had gone through during the short few moments before the..._toxins_ were too much. When I blink it haunts the darkness I see. The black is too much of a constant reminder, and more often than not I find myself with my glasses on and my head buried in one of those books I thought I'd never read, simply to keep my mind of things. Of course, I am quite enthralled with the newest edition to my small collection. Before I'd grasped only the outlines -missing an ending- of what is to come in my adventures, and then the "manual" that described the world I've come to be trapped in. Notch decided to offer me the kindness of a real book, snatched from the burned remains of a Testificate village's library. I didn't complain to him when he gave it to me -just brushed some ashes off of it and got down to reading it.

After a while Dan joins me. He didn't follow us down to see the horrible sight of Ander's corpse, but he seems to be taking share in our group's mutual insomnia -all except Notch who downed a few random potions to get him tired enough to meet _Scwerf's_ "unconscious only" standards. He just watches me read for a bit and then requests I read aloud. I'm uncertain at first, but Herobrine and the witch agree -I assume that's what Herobrine's nod means- and even Eleven gives a cluck of approval.

"_Fine_." I eventually groan. I begin reading them an elaborate tale about a "Minecrafter", one of those miner-crafter world-saver types. I guess _that's _why Ed called me one of them. Unlike an unwilling Minecrafter like me, who was sucked into this world without their consent, it's about a boy who was born into this place. I tell them about a special event in the boy's life. "_On the first day of the boy's fifteenth year, he was presented with the question all fifteen-year-old's are presented with. Will you stay? The boy, decidedly, did not. He went off to become a miner in hope's of bringing the village and hisself great wealth and fame. However,_"I pause, for a moment irritationally annoyed by a tiny tear at the bottom of the page. I sigh and ignore it, picking up where I left off. "_However,_" I repeat. "_The first night went less according-to-plan as he'd hoped. It was almost exactly the opposite of what he'd hoped. Because he was being followed by...a creeper!_"

I'm the first to burst out laughing after shouting the ridiculous statement so dramatically. Dan joins me soon as well. We don't laugh long, as really, even though it's funny, the stony glares from the witch, Herobrine _and_ Eleven are enough to silence us.

"...What?" I ask after a moment of rather uncomfortable silence.

"You don't know!" the witch finally shrieks, pointing an accusing finger in my face. "It didn't used to be that that- that _thing_ was the only _thing_ to fear. Creeper's especially... I-" she lifts her sleezes to her face to hide her wet eyes. "It's all your fault-!" she swings at Herobrine, and being that he's quite a bit stronger than her, he easily catches her arm, holding it tighter. Still, she yanks it upward and manages to scrape her knuckles against his chin. From there, she harshly yanks her nails along his face until her arm passes back over his head. It's nothing; she draws no blood except for a small -_so small_- cut under his eye. Herobrine screams, and it sounds half-similar to one of the few Ghasts I managed to hear before me and Dan ditched the Nether. He attacks her a flurry of growls and nails and I'm barely able to shove him off of her before he reaches for his sword.

"Herobrine, stop!" I demand. "She didn't mean to!" I shout; on the contrary, she did -no one can deny the small smirk on her face even as Herobrine rears back to smack her. "Please, would you just- ugh. I _said_ stop!" I finally shriek. Given no other options -mostly for fear of even slightly hurting him, since I owe him way too much as it is- I yank a carrot out of my backpack and throw it at him. Carrie vaults through the air with a move lacking in any grace and attacks the current owner of the carrot. Herobrine eventually calms down, shoving the pig off of him and opting to go lay down instead. Of course, he drifts off rather quickly; the horrors we've seen are _nothing_ to him. Eleven pulls away from the witch and goes to hang around his rightful..._owner_. It's difficult for me to think of Herobrine to have a pet -more...to _care_ for a pet. I guess he trusts the witch will do it for him.

Dan abruptly stands up after a bit. "Come on, I wanna show you something." he extends his hand to me, but I get up on my own, brushing innexistent dirt off my lap to busy my hands instead. He shrugs it off, and responds to my questioning glances. "Sil's watching 'em; you should properly meet our little _friends_. Those two boys who chased you and blank-eyes a few days ago."

I knit my eyebrows together. "Notch showed me some...stuff. You'll be cool this time, right?" I sigh as his shrug. "You'd better be." I mutter, mostly to myself. We walk into a different section of the cave, eventually encountering a blood-spotted Sil. When I ask with something similar to concern, Dan writes it off, saying the witch did some "medical stuff." Upon walking through a wooden door, we enter a torched, closed off room. I'm surprised; I was half-expected Dan to have put together a torture chamber for them. He certainly acted like he wanted to in that recording Notch showed me. The two boys lay sleeping on beds, their items close at their sides.

Dan rakes a hand through his fair hair while he speaks. "The witch has been coming daily to keep them going. The injuries are only a nuisance on top of the sickness they have. Same thing as you, I think, except worse. I mean, at least you can keep moving. They've been bound to bed as long as we brought them here. I mean, that's only about two days, but still, they've barely been conscious. When they have, they've barely moved." he says, his voice tainted with surprising worry. "Not that I'm complaining, really. Those bastards almost got you killed."

I scowl. "_Dan_." I huff at him. "They didn't touch me-"

"They shot you!" he explodes in a sudden rage as he begins pacing. "How could you have forgotten that?! Not to mention what they did to your _best friend_ in the other room, or whatever you consider your unnatural retationship with him to be. They cut him up and probably would have killed him -then done the same to you!" he pinches the bridge of his nose before leaning against the wall and sliding down into a sitting position. "And you...shouldn't die." he mutters this last part quietly, perhaps remembering we're in two sleeping peoples' room, but I don't think that's why.

I drop down beside him, pressing a finger to my lips to will him to be silent. When he watches this motion, his eyes linger on my mouth for a bit longer than I'd like. I decide to speed this little moment right along. I push myself back onto my feet before he does anything, and I can see -and ignore- the dissapointment in his eyes. "Let's head back." I say, fumbling in my pocket to find my reading glasses that I'd taken off during Herobrine and the witch's spat. "I think I want to go outside or something." I add quietly as we walk.

"Or something sounds good, considering we run the chance of being killed upon leaving the cave." he says with a grin, shaking off the awkward moment.

I shrug. "Well, we'll have to head back to our regular cave in the morning. That's a few biomes of travelling, so we might as well...scout the area now. I'll grab my bow and stuff. I could go for sniping some zombies, and I've got _plenty_ of arrows to do it with." I decide to flash a grin as well. It slips off my face and I stop walking for a moment. Dan raises his eyebrows. "I didn't like Ander much, but I feel like we're missing something ever since she..." I trail off, and he wordlessly nods. "Ugh. She was just crying...and- and screaming. I didn't help her. I tried to, but I couldn't get back to her in time. I might as well be the one who killed her." I let this confession that's been eating at me out, and Dan says nothing for a little while. Tears that I now I will _never_ let overflow fill my eyes, because he must think so, too.

He pulls me closer. "Hey- no, don't cry."

I sniffle slightly and shake my head. "I won't." I pull away from him, sliding my sleeve over my face to catch tears I know never existed. "It's...it's fine, let's just go." I murmur, and he pulls away just as quick as he pulled me close to him. He mutters a quiet agreement, and we head on our way. We walk a few steps farther before a loud crash behind us sends us jumping. One of the boys -the blonde- has awoken and managed to knock the contents of his bag around on the floor. Dan leads the way in and the boy shoots a glare at him, feebly reaching for his dented iron blade before Dan kicks the items away.

"Dan." I warn in a stern tone, sending my hand flying to catch his arm, knowing he'll likely do something stupid. "Hi," I offer to the blonde, narrowing his eyes in suspicion, as I push Dan in the opposite direction. "You must be the archer who nailed me in the back. Good shot. Alex, was it?" I ask, tone gentle so I don't startle him.

He grits his teeth through pain as he chokes out, "Adam."

I nod. "Right, of course." I mumble to myself. "Anyway, Adam, how are you feeling? Dan mentioned that you and your brother are ill." I say, and he doesn't respond, just looks at me, eyes narrowed, obviously associating me with what he views as "bad." That's fine. He shot me, and I don't see him as much more than "bad" either, but expressing those _emotions_ won't make any progress towards these two not trying to kill us the first chance they get. I clear my throat. "Look; as much as I'm sure _both of us_ would like you and your brother to be out of here and on your merry way to come untimely demise that I'm sure would happen _eventually_, Notch said you're needed, so you can't leave. I'm sorry."

His blue eyes are a sharp cold that matches their icy color, but I can also see slight understanding in them, too. Both of us have no control over the matter, so what's the point in fighting it? I certainly can't see any, and judging by the way he averts his eyes from me after a moment, he can't either.

I turn to leave, Dan falling into step with me, but then linger for a moment. "If it's any constellation, that scar you gave me won't be leaving anytime soon." I make my way the door, pushing it open and stepping out, not quite far enough to miss out on the faint, "I'm sorry." he coughs out for me. I keep walking. "Let's get going." I murmur to him shortly before we get back to the cave's main room. Once we do, I drop to snatch my backpack, and the sound of the zipper sliding downward as I pull my bow and sword out is what finally catches the attention of the others.

Herobrine _can't_ say anything, but he doesn't need to; his eyes hold a thousand words, and none of them are very pleasant. He quirks an eyebrow at me, waiting for an explanation he knows I'l deliver. That is what makes us differ. As stubborn as we both are, Herobrine will never submit to anyone, but I owe him, _a lot_.

I turn to him first. "Dan and I are going to scout out the route back to...uh...home." I explain, all the while shrugging my bow up onto my shouder and slipping an arrow in my pocket; the enchantment helps even more now, as I won't have to slow myself down on this possibly deadly trip with the backpack. I feel awkward calling the cave home; _my_ home is in a different place -a different _world_- and trying to pretend it isn't makes my chest hurt.

Herobrine simply shakes him head, I can imagine him listing all the reasons I shouldn't. _You just got back; you're injured; you need rest; you may very well be traumatized; you could _die. They are all of course true, and the last one hits me hard, being the most truthful of all, but someone has to do it. It could have been Dan and Ander, but...but that can't happen anymore.

I walk over to him, sitting at the edge of his bed. I mindlessly kick my feet for a moment before I turn to face him; the expression on my face mimicks one of a child in trouble. "You were right, you know." I murmur, and he raises an eyebrow. "About Eleven; it was a long trip back. Longer still if I hadn't had someone to go with me." I slid down _onto_ the bed somewhere during this statement, and now lie flat on my stomach, supporting my chin -and head by extension- with my hands, by face inches from his. "You should stop worrying about me. I could die any day; the same can be said for you. Mourn me later, but for now, let me do what I need to."

His expression of sterness doesn't change, but he relents, reluctantly nodding his head, a sigh escaping his lips. I know this means he understands; not that he thinks I should go -not that his opinion would sway me, since it never has before. I realize I should listen to him more -as he thinks more logically than I do- but my headstrong thinking gets the job done, and that's good enough. I place my hand on his; our eyes meet. I see it again. A flash of violet. It's gone when I blink.

"I'll be back; I promise."

He just nods again. We set out.

**(~Transition~)**

Dan breaks the initial silence with a question that I'm not sure how to answer. "What happened? In the cave, I mean."

I pause a beat, thinking, wondering if I should even _try_ at answering. I do it. "I think her blood turned black. It was coming fast out of her wound, and mouth, and eyes...one of the black skeletons got a good hit in on her and she...she started to...couldn't take it..." the image of Ander writhing around in agony, black tears streaming down her cheeks re-enters my mind and I decide to drop the subject, picking up a more pleasant one to replace it. "I hope the carrots have grown some while we were gone; I ran out a while ago, and they're Carrie's favorite."

He nods. "I'm sure they have. It's been a few days -plenty of time."

I dwell on Carrie to keep the image of Ander as far away from my mind as possible. "I really missed Carrie while I was gone."

"I really missed _you_."

Silence reigns again.

I clear my throat a minute or so later. "I was worried I'd never come back." I admit, thinking about the single Wither skull that had circled and threatened me, assessing me like a piece of meat. The threats clearly weren't empty, and if I hadn't escaped...I could have died. Then again, I've been close to death in most situations lately. "The Wither...or part of it, anyway, said some stuff. I didn't think I'd..." I realize this topic has turned sour as well; was it ever "sweet" to begin with? The talking is put to a stop when we see our first small group of the undead.

I count three skeletons, one of them a Wither skeleton, and two zombies. I notch my single arrow, fire it, and then fire it twice more after that, loving the enchantment in action. The zombies fall, and Dan flies forward with his iron sword at the draw. The two regular skeletons are beheaded quickly, but he hesitates with the Wither skeleton. Was it what I told him about Ander's death? His hesitance gives the skeleton just enough time to rear back to strike him down. I barely have enough time to fire another arrow and finish the monster before it can. Dan looks at me, and I suddenly see exhaustion in his normally smirking dark eyes. And how long have those bags been taking occupancy under them? He takes a moment to compose himself before he offers me a smile that I deem as fake.

"I'll go alone." I offer to him when he makes his way back over to me, his stride suddenly less confident, stuttering along the way. He shakes his head, rather predictably; he'd never leave me alone out here. In the low light, I slip my glasses onto my face, using the night-vision to my advantage as I dig around in my pockets and in the different places on my toolbelt, looking for something I always make sure to keep on me. Upon me finding it, the crimson potion quickly leaves my hand to take occupancy in his. His looks at it quizically. "Strength." I tell him without skipping a beat. "It's supposed to make you hit harder, but it also can give you an energy boost if you need one."

He thinks for a moment -his mind probably working a bit slower than he'd like- but eventually catches on. He takes a light sip, treating it more like a coffee than something a witch made on her brewing stand. Still, it has similar effects to a caffeinated drink, so his mannerisms don't draw any questioning out of me. His eyes begin to light up soon enough, radiating the same warmth they always do. He smiles, corking the potion and placing it in his bag which he didn't have the luxury of leaving behind. "Thanks." he nods.

"Of course." I return the gesture. "Let me know if your eyes are still tired; I'll let you borrow the glasses."

He shakes his head. "Notch gave them to _you_. Not to mention they're apparently incredibly important and will eventually help you slaughter our withering oppressor. So, to sum it all up, I am not worthy." he says with a _real_ half-smile.

I grin, barely holding back a laugh. "Suit yourself." I say. Silence yet again takes over as we walk, but this time neither of us take a crack at breaking it. I'm too busy trying to follow the steps we took in my head, scanning the area around us with my glasses; Dan however is probably just still tired -the potions can only do so much without defying logic. I do however break the infinite silence when we reach the forest that we call home. The cave is probably just...ten more minutes of walking, tops. I tell him this and he just wordlessly nods. By this point I've grown tired as well, and I decide we'll rest at the cave tonight instead of heading back; it was hard enough getting over here, I don't think either of us can handle the trip back.

We're stumbling by the time we _finally_ each the cave, though we aren't granted the ability to collapse into our well-missed beds. No, something stands between us and them. A girl. Her dark red hair is unkempt and flies many different ways, including over her face. She's nestled herself deep into the witch's bed. This fact is not really surprising, considering our blonde companion was the only one who ever bothered to _make_ her bed. Of course, it's a mess now, and I wonder to myself how long this girl has been hiding out here. I check the chests; nothing but the things we took are missing. I decide she's no threat, but naturally, she has to go. We have quiet enough people to look after as it is, including two mini-assassins that we're holding prisoner. Dan and I discuss the matter for a moment deciding in our exhausted states sleep is the only real priority. Foolish, maybe, but I'm much too tired to care.

I settle into my head, laying on my side like I always do, making me end up facing the girl. Other than the rise and fall of her chest, with her overall messiness, she near resembles a corpse. She's certainly pale enough. Does that mean she's infected as well, or is she just pale? My mind is working fast enough to keep up with all my questions, and my eyes drift closed without my consent; they get it soon enough, though. Still, even in my dreams, my worry shows itself. I don't see a demonic Herobrine this time. In fact, this isn't even really a dream, it's more of a memory. Ander screams and cries and I shy away from her. Instead of running to get help this time though, I just watch, a disgusted expression on my face. This eventually causes me to wake with a start an hour or so later, judging by the position of the moon, barely in my line of vision from the cave entrance. Though I'm only half-conscious, I take note of the fact that it's a full moon. Next comes the waning gibbous -or is waxing?- not that it matters. I close my eyes again, willing all thoughts away from me except for one; _sleep_. And I do. No night-terrors this time. I do see something though that I'm not sure is a dream or reality, but I take advantage of it.

_Notch looks up from a clipboard and meets my eyes, quirking an eyebrow. "Came here all on your own?" he asks, and I nod. "What is it? We're in the middle of a meeting."_

_ "If Herobrine asks- er...I mean...you know, just tell him we crashed at home-cave. Alright?" I ask, trying not to look at the faces all around us._

_ Notch nods. "That's all?"_

_ I nod as well. "That's all."_

He carelessly snaps his fingers, sending me spiralling back into full unconsciousness. Still, with one worry out of my system, the worry that Herobrine won't be able to sleep because I will be able to, I sleep easier. Other worries still exist, like the worry that the girl may do something while we're asleep, but I push these ones away, and eventually just sleep peacefully, no thoughts or worries or _anything_. And it's the best I've felt in a long time.

**AN: I'm lazy. That's pretty much all there is to it. Still, since it's been a month, I'll try and make myself upload more often so there's not huge pause-gap-whatevers like this. New OC yo. I'm sure her owner can guess who she is, but I'll give the rest of you a name; Maysi. There ya go. That's also it.**

**Anyways.**

**Sleeping with a possibly-hostile girl in the room?**

**People make bad choices when they're tired.**

**I'm so tired right now.**

**If this chapter bites, that's probably why.**

**~patatoes out .3.**


	16. Chapter 16: The Question

I wake to the cold kiss of iron against my throat. The axe is positioned so that even the slightest upward movement of my head would make a considerably large slit in it. I say still with my eyes open, allowing whoever holds the weapon to notice I'm awake. The axe moves away slightly and that's all it takes before I'm on my feet, and then I'm on the ground again, on top of the axe's owner, bringing my fist up and down again at least ten times before I take a deep breath and stop. I look down at who I've been brutally attacking; it's the girl who I decided to let sleep last night. Her hair is suddenly not the only red on her as blood begins to rush out of her nose. She yanks her arms towards herself, using one to pinch her nose, stanching the blood-flow, and using the other to drag herself away from me. I let her; I've done enough damage.

As she inches away, she tries to put an emotionless mask on to hide her pain, but I've already seen it, and her efforts are useless. She presses her sleeve to her nose to wipe away the still flowing blood, all the while glaring at me. She spits to the side and more blood comes along with it. I instantly feel sorry, but then I remember that I only did what I did because she put her axe to my throat. I burn with rage at that for a moment before I remember she's been camping here for a day at least, probably thinking this place was abandoned; she must have thought _we_ were the intruders, instead of just the owners of the place returning and granting her a good night's rest.

I grit my teeth for a moment, quarrelling my mixed emotions before setting on hostile but reasonable as the one to treat her with. "Look," I snarl, eyes narrowed at her. "This place belongs to us. We left for a few days to help a poor little girl return a child to it's home. That child is dead now. I'm going to give you ten seconds to _get out of here_ before I _make you_." my tone is low and leaves no room for questioning. She hesitantly nods, rushing to pick up her few things -her axe, some food, and some small, slimy, cube-like creature I've only ever read about before, as they are rather rare- and then make her way towards the exit, eyes wide and fearful. I think for a moment about the perils outside, and how virtually unprepared she is; she did take shelter here for a reason...not to mention, if she is infected like us, then she might be part of that oh so, cliché _sacred seven_ or whatever Notch is always telling me about. "Wait," the word escapes me before I can think more clearly. "I...er...the surrounding biome is a tundra. You'll freeze out there, the way you're looking. Just...you can stay here another day." I finally say, face falling in defeat, knowing it's wiser to let Notch compare her to the old tales before I send her roughly on her way.

"Thanks." she says in a careless tone, walking back over to the witch's bed and plopping down on it. She lifts a hand, raking it through her unkempt hair to try and groom it some; it doesn't do much. "So who are you?" she asks in a bored but also slightly curious tone, quirking an eyebrow at me. The eyebrow falls after it takes me a while to respond. "You do know your name, right? Here, I'll show you how to do this. Hi, my name is Maysi, what's yours? And then you say yours; easy!" she concludes her lesson with a sardonic grin.

"Hello, Maysi," I say, equally sarcastic. "I'm Avery -the kind girl who let you stay in her home so you don't freeze to death; thanks so much for the appreciation."

"Yeah, yeah." she mutters with a roll of her dark grey eyes -I cringe to myself; those were the color of Ander's eyes, before they turned black and she... "Thanks so much for that, Avery." her tone doesn't drop the venom it's laced with, and I glare at her just as she did after I attacked her. "Frankly, I think I'd prefer to freeze out there..." she mutters. The cube of slime bounces from it's position on the bed to her lap, and her cold eyes hold compassion as she lifts a hand to touch the little creature, a small smile on her face. It falls when she notices I've been watching. She sneers at me. "What?" she asks, voice even more hostile now. She unconsciously sinks her nails into the only thing in her hand -the slime; the creature squeaks in pain and she immediately pulls away. "Sorry, Yellow."

I raise a brow at her. "Yellow?"

She shrugs. "I named him after my old dog."

I don't pursue her on the matter, instead, I cross the room to place a hand on Dan's shoulder, roughly shaking him in his bed until I manage to rouse him. He grunts and murmurs something about it being _way_ too early; not in the mood after nearly having my head chopped of by a less-than trust worthy girl, I yank him up by his collar and proceed to deposit him on the floor, waking him for the most part. "Hey," I say in a low voice, leaning down into him enough that only an inch divides us. He raises an eyebrow at me, even in his groggy state. "Watch yourself around her -the girl from last night- I'm letting her stay another day, but it's way too early to trust her. She held a axe to my throat earlier -don't freak out- just try to keep an eye on her. Okay?" I ask, and he nods at me, but even as I roll my eyes as he plops back down into bed and begins snoring softly -not keeping an eye on anything- I have to crack a smile.

"Who's he?" Maysi asks from across the room in her still relatively uncaring tone. "Brother? Boyfriend?"

"Wha-? No!" I can feel my cheeks heat up even in the bitter cold that seeps into the cave, and I turn away from her to hopefully make it less noticable. "Neither." I say after I compose myself. "Just a friend; we met here."

She shrugs, still wearing a mask of boredom, but I can see wariness in her eyes; can she trust me? I ask the same question to myself about _her_. But she too curls up on the witch's bed, holding her little cube of slime close to her and her eyes drift closed and one of her hands greedily extends to yank the blanket up over her. She doesn't snore as Dan does; her breathing is soft and near-silent. While Dan and I rely mostly rely on skill, she seems more like the stealthy type. I mean, we all are hiding from the Wither, his minions, _so many_ other terrors, but she seems to just be better at it.

I settle down onto my own bed, not to go to sleep, but just to think. I suddenly wish I'd brought my bag now. Though I know Herobrine will collect it and bring it to me, the books I never get the chance to read would probably pass the time well. Plus, I'm _almost_ half-interested in what happens to that boy being tracked by a creeper. With nothing else to do, I imagine different scenarios for him. The creeper blows him up; he dies instantly. He manages to detect the green villian just in time and takes it's life. The creeper and Minecrafter somehow befriend each other. I shake my head at that last; while it doesn't matter anymore, Herobrine _used_ to mention plenty of times how much the two groups loathed each other.

_"Maybe the creepers just wanted hugs!"_ the witch said on one occasion; she'd never much been exposed to the other mobs, really. Mostly she'd just stayed in her hut, brewing, until Herobrine ruined her life. Sometimes those two remind me of the Minecrafters and the creepers. Hating each other so much, but joining together because we have no choice now. We may never again.

_"You don't have a damned clue, do you?" _Herobrine had replied with a scoff. _"They're killers! And monsters! And-"_

_"Like you?!"_

Silence had reigned after that one. Though back when Herobrine and I kept our distance from each other, I can't deny a smirk had been on my face. Nor can I deny a light laugh had escaped me when the two had stormed out of the room into different sections of the cave. Back then it was easier to think of Herobrine as a bad guy, even if he wasn't, considering he caused this "end of days" out of greed. Now I consider him to be a friend. No, more than that. I'd give my life for him, because I more than owe him it.

After a while of this, my reverie is haulted by my backpack slamming down on my chest, knocking the air out of my lungs. I pull it aside, compose myself, and look up at who my attacker is. The witch has a sheepish look on her face and I understand without her needing to say it that it was an accident. She smiles in relief, then glances at Maysi. Oh yes, that's her bed. I climb from my bed to stand next to her, muttering to her as the other's begin to file in, "We'll talk about it later." She wordlessly nods, sitting down on my bed instead. After everyone is back and settled it, Notch is the first to ask.

"So, who's your new friend?"

I sigh and close my eyes for a moment, collecting and putting together the right assortment of words before I speak. I crack my eyes open. "Her name is Maysi." I mutter in a hushed voice, having the hunch that she's listening in. "I told her she could stay here an extra day while _you_-" I gesture towards Notch, "-decide whether or not she's from the damned stories. She started camping here sometime while we were gone. I think she might be hostile, but we outnumber her; either way, she looks crafty to me -keep an eye on her."

Herobrine glances at her. His milky-silverish eyes speak for him as he quirks an eyebrow at me. _What makes her crafty?_

"She nearly killed me." I murmur, and when Herobrine tenses, I keep still, letting Notch place an hand on his brother's arm instead. "Axe at my throat; she's not too strong though. I had her on the ground pretty quick. She relies on stealth; when stealth fails her, she's done."

"Interesting." Notch mutters. "Well," he says, dusting his lap off as he rises to his feet, this holding his little brother's arm to bring him up as well. "Herobrine and I actually do have things to attend to. We'll be taking the two boys with us; since none of the Overworld's traditional healing methods have worked on them we were hoping to try some more _godly_ attemps at reviving them. Lydia's an expert on that kind of thing. I'm sure we'll we able to get them back on their feet in no time."

"Great." I mutter, remembering my conversation with the blonde -Adam- and how unpleasant it was; the sooner those two have the strength to hold their weapons, the sooner they'll be planning driving them into our turned backs. I trust them even less than I trust Maysi, and she held a axe to my throat. "Well, good luck."

Notch nods. "We'll need it."

And then they're gone. I don't complain; I have reading to do. I plop down on my bed, yanking my pack open to place my glasses gently atop my face and pull out my book, all the while keeping half my attention focused on Maysi while the other half dwells deeper into the tale of the boy and the creeper. I was right; they do not befriend each other. It's almost anticlimatic, really, how easily the boy slaughtered the monster. There was his anitial panic, followed by a brief chase scene, and then he just killed it, liked he'd put together the hull hunt just to humor the creature. The first chapter ends after that, skipping his mining adventure to go ahead to the next day. He sets up camp and has an impressive array of new tools; my eyes scan the page, taking in every detail; still, my body is tense, ready to pounce at the slightest disturbance in the room.

_The boy showed not even the slightest bit of remorse as he tucked away the gunpowder of his first kill and other parts of various monsters he'd killed during his adventure. The thick gray dust powdered his hands as he put it away, and he futily attempted to rub it away on his pants, only leaving more marks. He sighed and gave up; it didn't matter much anyway. He decided to get to work on roasting some of the raw pork chops he'd collected on the way to his makeshift camp, and soon enough thick black smoke was rising into the air, clouding his sight. His hand unconsciously slid towards his sword when he could just barely make out a moving figure in the now thick smoke. He grabbed the weapon, preparing for yet another fight. He dropped the sword instantly when he saw who-_

I rear back, ready to strike the person who's invaded the space of my bed. My pounding heart stills when I realize it was just the witch, curiously peeking over my shoulder, Eleven perched precariously atop hers.

"Watch'a doin'?" she asks, drifting from her heels to her toes, violet eyes big and wide. In this way she seems much younger than me. Always trying to smile and be optimistic, only occasionally slipping up and trying to kill Herobrine. When was the last time I smiled? For real? Because I was _happy_? Not just because of a sarcastic joke or momentary histeria. As I dwell on this, I come to realize that I probably haven't smiled since I entered Minecraftia; at all. That fact certainly doesn't make me smile, either.

"Reading." I mutter, dropping my eyes from her frame to turn the page.

"Could you take a break for a second?" she asks me, tone not quite curious; whatever she needs it must matter quite a bit.

I mark the page and lift my glasses from my face before I turn and face her once more. "What do you need?"

She makes a subtle gesture with her chin, nodding her head towards a corner. There sits a small figure, clutching her knees to her chest, head hung low. Marcia. How long has it been since I've seen her? And...after what Dan and Ander said...how must she be feeling? I'm almost certain her loss would be equal to how I would feel if Herobrine were to... I ball hand hands into fists and push the thought from my mind. It's nothing to dwell on; right now a little girl needs some consoling. I cross the room and sit beside her, and allow silence to settle between us for a moment before I think of something to say.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

It's weak, but she doesn't hesitate to spill all that she's been keeping locked up inside her; she's a child, she doesn't worry about burdening others with the tale, and I don't care how horrific it is. If she needs to speak, I won't deny her.

"I just..." her voice takes a good second to crack and shatter into pieces. "I miss him so much...the monsters took him away 'cause he wasn't like us -he couldn't fight- Ander said that he'd be okay, b-but look what happened to her! What if that happens to me, too?" she tooks up at me, demanding answers I can't possibly have, her once sperkling blue eyes now a dull gray from all the grief they hold.

"I..."

_I...don't know._

_I...am afraid._

_I...wish I could help you._

_I...can't._

"I...won't let that happen." I say with a stern face, wrapping my arms around the child; she is turn buries her face in my shoulder, choking on sobs she doesn't want to let out. "Did Notch tell you about who I talked to when I was in the big village?" I ask her, hoping some good news may cheer her up. I can feel her head slowly move back and forth against my arm; I smile softly. "I found your mother, and I told her you're safe."

She pulls back from me, mouth hung open, ajar in her surprise. "R-really?" she manages after a moment; I can only nod. "Mommy..." she mumbles, mind difting to somewhere I cannot go. I take her hand, leading her to her feet and taking her over to my bed.

"Hey," I murmur to the witch who has sat at the edge of the piece of furniture, waiting. "Since our _guest_-" I mutter, offering Maysi a side-glance, "-has so kindly taken your bed, you can have mine; I'll make a new one. I don't have enough wool around for two though, since spiders and sheep are both so rare...do you think Marcia can camp with you?" I ask her, clasping my heads together in a fashion that feigns pleading; I know she'll automatically say yes, so there's no need for real begging. When we met Marcia, we immediately set out to return her poor creeper home...we, of course, didn't get the chance. Nor did we get the chance to make her a bed before we set off; only now must I deal with it.

"Of course." the witch nods, helping me with gathering my things and then pulling Marcia up onto the bed beside her. Marcia relays the good news that isn't really news to the witch and the purple-eyed girl smiles at me. I can see the message in her eyes; _good job_. I half-smile back at her before I get to work at making a new bed, deciding to place it near the entrance leading to the rest of the cave - the parts where we might mine. After making it, I don't rest, however, as I decide I'd rather make use of the day. There's no need to gather materials, now that we're back "home", so I'm left wondering what to do with the day. Going outside is always too big a risk unless there's a reason, and boredom doesn't count. In the end, it doesn't take me long to make a descision. I roll into my new bed and pull the blanket up to my chin, willing myself to sleep so that I can begin.

I had hoped to somehow magically pop myself into another _Scwerf_ meeting, but no, I have been redirected to the place I fear being the most. White walls surround me. White light shines down on me. My white gown is thin and does little to protect me from the cold around me. It snows outside, I can see this through a window. I have little time to take all of this in though, as within seconds of my return to the place, the door slowly opens, and in she steps, a hesitant smile on her face, orchid held tightly in her hand, bag bulging with something small but extremely square pressing against it from the inside.

Her eyes look me over as she settles into a chair beside the bed I lay in. Nothing much has changed; she looks better rested, I suppose. Perhaps she's come to terms with the fact that her only daughter is in a coma. She watches me for a moment, as if expecting me to say something; I try to, but even as meaningless words fly past my lips, I know she can't hear them. She rises, moving to stand beside me now, and pulls the orchid apart, disposing of the stem and placing the flower gently in my hair. She smiles down at me. The moment is disrupted by the door once again opening. I'm once again presented with the sight of my youngest brother, and my breath hitches once again. It also does when my eyes drift from him to the person he holds tightly onto the hand of. Naturally, since I haven't seen him in a long time -even before I was brought to Minecraftia- I'm left slightly surprised and with the feeling that it must be a special occasion if he's come all the way here; college is important, after all.

Anthony hands Carl over to mom and she murmurs a slight, "Thanks, Tony." to him as she places the younger boy on her lap. "I'm really glad you were able to come." she almost whispers, and he just nods, plopping down into a seat beside her, eyes almost instantly moving to me. It takes me only a few moments to piece everything together and figure it all out. The orchid. The season. His sudden visit. And I get it, and it hurts even before they start quietly singing.

It hurts because I don't _want_ it to be my birthday.

When they conclude singing, mom pulls the square item out of her purse that I've already gussed is a present, and I'm right. She gives it to Carl for unwrapping, since I'm obviously in no state to do it myself. He greedily tears at the paper, removing it with great speed until it's all gone, revealing the gift that I most likely won't ever truly recieve. A phone; I don't recognize the type. _"When she wakes up..."_ they all murmur to each other.

"How long are you planning on hanging around?" my mother asks Tony is a quiet voice, as if I truly am just resting and they don't want to rouse me.

"Until she wakes up." he says firmly. She just nods as him, lifting Carl into her arms as she heads for the door, muttering something to him that I don't quite catch. "Okay." he says back to her, and stuffs his hands into his pockets as he rises from the chair. Instead of following her, he comes beside me, lingering for a moment, eyes set on mine. Brown clashes with a green that must be invisible to him. He sighs and leans down to kiss the top of my head before he moves to the exit, leaving the orchid in its place, tucked in my hair. "See ya later, Avie." he mutters quietly as he exits the room. And then he too leaves me; I've not given much time to feel the sting of my family walking away before I leave my world to come back to the one I've been working so hard to save.

I blink a few times as I leave reality and come back to the fantasy. I decide to keep my mouth shut about the small significance this days holds; I don't want any of them to force joy when the world around us is so grim. I turn to the event that has roused me - Notch and Herobrine have returned. It seems that Notch was having a conversation with Maysi and she began shouting; my assumption is based on the fact that she still shouts even now, face red with anger. I marvel over that for a moment considering how pale she is. Her face _almost_ is as deep as the red locks that flow from her head. I want to chuckle, but whatever's going on seems serious, so I swing my legs over the side of my head and force and leftover groginess away as I make my way towards the pair and the small crowd gathered around them. Herobrine stands close to his brother's side; the witch holds Marcia tightly in her arms -both of them cringe at every shout; even Dan has been roused by the shouting and he offers me a slight wave when I march my way over. Carrie sits contently on his lap; I half-smile.

"What's going on?" I question, crossing my arms as I make my way towards the red-head and the capped man.

"I'm merely trying to explain to Maysi here-"

"Oh; explain?! That's a word for it!"

Herobrine steps defensively forward, eyes narrowed and teeth bared.

Notch clears his throat. "I'm merely trying to explain to Maysi here that she is, in fact, written about in the book, and she _will_, in fact, play a part in the saving of this world-"

"Why the hell should I?!" she demands, fire in her dark gray eyes. "This isn't my world! This world is damned anyways!"

"Maysi..." I begin slowly.

"You shut up, too!" she points an accusing finger at me. "You people can't make me do anything! And neither-" she moves forward, quick as the wind blowing around us from the cave's entrance, and snatches the book from Notch's hands, "-can this stupid book!" she shouts, throwing it somewhere behind her as she fumes in rage. "You morons can't make me do anything!"

Notch crosses the room and collects the book with a sigh, returning back to his original place if for no other reason than to separate a rather defensive looking Herobrine and a clearly enraged Maysi. "We're not going to _force_ you to do anything. All I am stating is that everything you will do is written her-"

Maysi's eyes change then. I can see them calculating; thinking; planning. She forces anger back into them. "But that's not what you-!"

"Yes, it is." Notch says simply.

"Notch..." I mumble slowly, too quiet for him to catch; Dan does, he turns to me, arching an eyebrow.

"M-may I see it?" Maysi says with a sigh of exasperation, a sigh that says, _"Maybe I was wrong. Maybe this is good."_ In this case, it was a fake sigh.

Notch smiles in satisfaction and offers her the book. "I'll be pleased to tell you that you don't-"

"Notch!" I burst out, no longer caring to be quiet.

She bolts towards the nether rack that has been burning since I lit it all those says ago; the day me and Herobrine met the witch. The day before everything changed. She dumps her hands free of their contents. The book falls into the flames, burning almost instantly. Shocked gasps echo around the room; I am the only one still silent, the only one who _knew_. The only one who has the nerve to rush forward and tackle her to the ground, raising my fist to-

"Avery, stop."

I'm not sure who says it -most likely either Notch or Dan- but the familiar tone is enough to make me drop my arm relunctantly. Maysi glares as she shoves me off of her. I say flat on the ground aside from some slight support from my elbows and watch her walk away, taking rather dramatic stomps over to the witch's stolen bed. She collects her few items and places them in her pack which she then proceeds to swing up onto her shoulder in the middle of her march to the exit. Since she has no door to slam, she takes one last stomp on her way out into the cold early evening. It'll grow dark soon; if she stays out there, she'll die. Using what little shreds of humanity I have left, especially for that wicked girl, I mutter a request for someone to go after her. Herobrine marches out, stopping briefly to grab some thin leather protection from the cold before he continues out.

I stare after him long after he leaves, and someone tugging on my hand pulls me back to reality. I expect Dan or perhaps Marcia, but instead am surprised to see it's the brunette boy -Alex- who looks quiet healthier than when I last saw him, unconscious in bed. I glance at him as I turn away from the exit; his blue eyes are calm and void of the icy hate his brother's held. I look away. "How...how important was...?" I murmur the question, letting my eyes find Notch.

"Very." the man mumbles. "We don't have any extra copies...I'm sure someone must have written _something_ down, but we don't..." he sighs; this may be the most vulnerable I've ever seen him. He lifts his eyes from the ground where they have stayed for the past few minutes. "It's...the book was already half-destroyed anyway. It'll be alright." he says, his voice more flat now, void of the worry it had held just seconds ago. I admire this about him; he's an expert in leadership. He knows people with follow his example, so he sets a good one. It's a trait I may never have.

I pull my wrist free from the grasp of the brown haired twin. I sit down beside Dan, letting him hand me Carrie, whom I hold in a grasp somewhere between tight and gentle against my chest, closing my eyes as if it will make me forget everything going on around me. The more I think about it, the less I trust all of those around me; Herobrine is perhaps the only exception, and even as I treasure him above all others, I know he's not a hero. He caused all of this, did he not? The witch hates him for it, but it's a fact I constantly ignore. As Dan's hand finds mine, giving it a light squeeze, I realize I trust him, too. I don't reject the contact when he moves forward, pulling his arm over my shoulders. I'm not sure how long we stay like this, knees lifted to our chests, hands intertwined, but we are only jarred out of it what feels like hours later by Notch, who coughs lightly to gain our attention. His eyes are settled on me, so I just give Carrie back to Dan, muttering something about being back soon before I head off with him to a more private location that is a bit father into the cave.

"What is it?" I ask quietly upon reaching our destination. He pulls something small and square from his sleeve; a box. I make the connection that it's a gift just as he presents it to me. "...How did you...?" I trail off. "Did you send me there today?" I ask, suddenly feeling hurt. Why would he want me to see that? As if there isn't enough going on around here right now, me being older just seems to add to the sting of knowing that things are constantly changing. He simply nods and proceeds to place the box in my hands, walking away to give me some privacy to open it, promising under his breath that he won't let the others know. Curiosity bests me, and I tear the small box open. All that rests inside is a small half-sheet of white paper, the font on it reveals it's been typed up by a computer. Something that, of course, does not exist in this place.

I scan the page. The new information both intrigues me and worries me. It also answers quite a few questions, like, for example, why my pair of brothers and mother were so certain that I would wake up. It's all they can believe. It's the one hope they can cling onto. Because, according to this paper, they're only giving me another month before they're taking away the life support. I only have one more month to fix all of this and return home before I'm sentenced to death. I can see now why Notch won't tell anyone; we can't rush this, nor will worrying the rest of the group help. All we need to do is figure out a way to finish the Wither's rule over this place.

The question is...how?

**A/N: *blows kazoo***

**Birthdays are so nice.**

**Except, you know, during the appocalypse.**

**ANYWAYS.**

**Just another trip to the hospital.**

**More conflicts.**

**Yay.**

**BYE. :D**

**~patatoes**


	17. Chapter 17: The Prison

We mull over some good plans and some bad ones for an unknown amount of time until I decide Herobrine has been gone too long. Maysi in addition the that, but I frankly am currently wishing she does not return at all. A "rescue party" consisting of me and the witch -Dan gives her a sword to arm herself with- sets out shortly after. There's not much trail to follow -for once I actually wish it could have been raining, so that we could follow muddy tracks- and in the moonlight any signs that point the direction they could have gone are hard to see. Eventually it comes to me having to put on my night-vision glasses, not just lightening everything, but also outlining the slight indications in the ground that head east.

After a few minutes of walking, the witch turns to me, lifting a hand to brush her golden locks out of her face as she pauses. Her violet eyes settle on mine. "He's not still ill, is he?" she asks, voice audibly concerned. I ignore it - we've all grown a bit closer over the time we've spent here, so it's no big shock she _cares_ if he's sick in this nasty weather.

I shake my head. "I don't think so. He hasn't shown signs of it, anyway." I inform her. The only even slightly odd thing I've seen from Herobrine lately is the flashes of violet. Perhaps the white symbolizes the corrupt part of him that drove him to create the Wither. Maybe then he's returning to who he once was. Though the more reasonable explanation is, _you're in a coma, you hulucinating, you're nuts._

She nods and yanks up a hood up over her head, once again knocking the long strands of gold into her squinted eyes; she ignores them this time and carries on in walking. I follow, despite being the one who can actually _see_ which way we need to go. Eventually, we reach the end of the indications, and I shoot a hand forward towards her arm to stop her movement.

"The tracks stop here." I mutter, narrowing my eyes into the distance, making sure that they really do. Having assured myself of the fact that they do, I turn to her, locking my gaze onto her own. "Any bright ideas, witchy?"

She once told me that witches in their selective "groups" went by the titles of the potions they speciealized the most at making. I forget which one she had told me she went by, if she even did. I think she much prefers being nameless than being named after an object, so I've never brought it up again to ask.

"Hey," she smiles, sticking her tongue out at me. "Don't ask me, you're the _nerd_-" she jabs my side with her index finger, "-wearing glasses."

I allow myself a trickle of a smirk - to humor her. I narrow my eyes. "Heh. Coming from the girl always doing chemistry."

She blinks. "Chemistry...?"

Sometimes words don't carry over.

"Brewing." I correct myself.

"Well yeah!" she grins. "It's what I was born to do. And what were you born to do, Avery?" she pokes me again. "Certainly not to wear those glasses and took like a total _geek_." she laughs.

I chuckle lightly as well. "What was I born to do?" I ponder the question. In the end, no answer comes. We begin walking once more before a rather thunderous explosion rocks the ground, sending us flying. The witch lands atop the leaves on a tree, unscathed save a few bruises. I, on the other hand, am thrown just a few feet forward, landing harshly on my elbows and knees. A mix between a grunt and a whimper escapes me and I take a quick breath, trying to distract myself from the searing pain in my limbs. I look down to glance at my palms as I lift them to the fading light. A few scrapes; nothing horrid. Something rests in the center of both, and, I suddenly notice, in lots of patches in the land around me. I squint, willing my clouded mind to find the word. I come up with nothing.

The witch screeches. I whip my head towards the location of the shout a bit too quick and collapse back to the ground, head spinning and vision foggy. I look up. Behind the spots that dance across the image before me, I see the witch, surrounded by four figures -one in each corner- she shakes like a leaf, assessing just as well as me that there is no escape for her. "Avery!" she still shouts my name, knowing even more than she knows how hopeless the situation is that I _refuse_ to let her be taken.

I stumble to my feet, scrambling to get a grip on the hilt of my sword. I grab the blade instead and end up with a nasty gash that streams crimson as I secure a hand around the safe-to-hold area of my weapon. My body shakes too much for me to get a safe shot, so I figure attacking them head on will work better. Four to one. And the one is close to unconscious. Still, I move forward, raising my blade to hack off the head of the first adversary. My sword -not driven far enough by strength- does not go through the entire bone, instead lodging itself inside.

Since the Wither skeleton -I place a name to it quickly as I pull back, desperately trying to hank my sword free- is undead, none of this matters. It _still_ whisks it blade hide into the air, slamming it down on my head just as quick. As my body once again goes limp, landing less than gently into the ash -that's it!- below me, I let out a soft cry, thinking of all the ways I might have brain damage. Somewhere inbetween the impact of the weapon and the slamming of my body into the ground, my eyes have close, so I blink them open desperately, knowing if I go under I may never come back up.

My head, lolled to the side, has a nice view of the rising moon. A crescent of sorts - I forget the name. I forget lots of things. It even takes me a few seconds to identify the rising three headed figure, shooting a continual rain of skulls, causing more and more explosions just like the one that sent me and the witch hurtling into the air to begin with. The witch screams again and then is silenced. A second body falls to rest beside mine. I'm glad for the extra body heat; it's so cold, and I'm so tired...

I raise I tired hand to remove my glasses, somehow robotically remembering to remove them before I rest, tucking them inside of my shirt safe keeping. Somewhere close to my shirt anyway; I wear so many layers it's honestly hard to tell. After that I curl up, ignoring the scream of protest from my body as I close my eyes.

"Avery." I hear a soft whimper to my left. "Avery, no. Don't go to sleep. They'll hurt you if you fall asleep. You have to stay awa-"

I miss the rest when unconsciousness claims me.

When I wake I stretch my arm forward, trying to pull Carrie closer to ensure more heat. It's very cold. I come up with nothing and decide tiredly that Dan must have stolen the pig. I'll yell at him when I rise. I roll over, ignoring the way my leg twists the wrong way, now facing the fire, hoping to encapture more heat that way. Nothing. I sigh under my breath and return to my original positioning. Normally my bed _is_ rather stiff, but today it seems down right _hard_. I decide I won't be getting any more sleep and blink my eyes open slowly. Pitch black. Darker than the cave ever could be.

I put my weight onto my elbows and push myself upward; both my elbows and entire torso cry out in pain at the motion. I grit my teeth through it, scrunching my eyes closed once again, barely allowing myself to hiss before I suck in a sharp breath and continue up until I'm balancing on shaking legs, peering into dark ambience around me. I stumble forward a single step before I trip over _something_ and am sent hurtling towards the ground, a stabbing pain shooting through my elbows and knees as I land on them. Another hiss, and then I force myself back to my feet again.

A door I hadn't realized was just in front of me swings open, grazing the edge of my arm. I supress my hiss this time despite the pain in both my arm and eyes as the sudden light blinds me. I lift a hand to shield them until I adjust. When I do, I recoil at the sight before me. One of the heads -the left head, I'd assume, by the sneer of disgust settled upon its face- hovers on the other side of the door frame, eyes settled on me. I open my mouth to speak but it cuts me off with a simple command.

"Strip yourself of all armor."

I don't bother with protests, yanking down my hood to pull off my leather cap and then slipping my feet out of my golden boots, mind wandering to the others as I do the mundane task. Assuming Herobrine and Maysi are still gone as well, how is Notch handling the loss of four of us. Or Dan, for that matter. Thinking of Dan brings a slight pain to my chest, which as far as I know has suffered no wounds, so I stop thinking about him quickly.

"The additional layers as well."

I suppose it suspects me of perhaps having hidden weapons. I pull off my belt first, noting that the various supplies on it have been taken, then remove the jackets I wear for warmth in the harsh weather, eventually leaving me in half-normal clothes. Jeans, a white shirt with sleeves that reach to my elbows, and simple sneakers. And a single jacket tied around my waist; for safe keeping. The jacket that has my glasses stuffed deep into the lining. "Shall we go then?" I flash the beast a sardonic grin.

"Do not fall behind." is all it says in a tone void of humor before shooting into the hallway ahead, me at its tail. I catch a glimpse of my reflection in a window as we go; near white skin and unnaturally dark eyes. How much time do I have again? Oh yes, one month. And given that the sky is gray instead of black, I've been fourteen for a day now. _Lovely_. Thirty left then.

We eventually reach the large set of doors that marked the chamber that I'd met the sadistic right head in. The left head slowly makes its way in, I following below it. This time, the other two heads wait for it inside. Along with the body, of course. The eyes of the right head seem to smirk just as the mouth does. I'm certain the monster sees this whole thing as a sort of revenge for skipping out on playtime before. How long was I gone from here? Only a few days, I'm sure.

"Name." the left head says, not asking, but rather demanding.

"Avery." I say, voice more in control than I'd've thought.

"Lovely name~" the right cooes with a chuckle; I stick to speaking when spoken to and just glare at it.

"Avery." the middle head says curtly, silencing its companion. "You have made and have been accomplice to several criminal acts that have taken place recently."

I want to laugh and say, "You don't know the half of it." I don't though. Saying that would have roughly the same affect as tying a noose around my neck.

"Shall I list out your crimes?"

I nod, curious as to what they know and what they don't.

"Treason against the _Irritum_ and its residents. Admitted involvement in a resistance against the _Irritum_. Admitted association with Markus Persson; known criminal and member of a resistance against the _Irritum_. And leaving the _Irritum_ after being held for questioning." the thing says flatly, as if reading, though its eyes are on me and nowhere else.

"So this is a trial then?"

"If it _was_," the middle head says sharply, seeming to be all business. "How would you plead?"

"What is the court's penalty?" I ask in a tone just a curt.

"Excecution." mutters the left.

"Cruel and unusual punishment." argues the right.

"Most likely," says the middle, shutting both of them up. "Is a life sentence in prison. So; how do you plead?"

I consider for a moment. I _could_ deny all of it, but it seems rather pointless. I don't know much about trials, nor the fallout of feigning innocence, though I'm sure it can't be good. "Guilty as charged." I say simply, fidgeting with the back of my jacket as I slowly reach for my glasses. With the entire beast of the Wither here, I can't imagine a much better time to push that mystery button that I was instructed to save for a moment just like this one.

"Well, Avery," right takes over, dislodging itself from the body, moving towards me until we are face to face. "I'd say you still owe me one tongue from our last encounter; a fitting punishment for a dangerous individual such as yourself, yes?"

I, almost literally, hold my tongue.

The middle speaks again, "Though we would give anyone else a nice little cell to spend the rest of their likely short life rotting in, given your clearly deteriorating health-" I look into the right's eyes to see my reflection once more. Still unnaturally pale. Still pitch black eyes. I've still retainted my strength -I hope- but it's evident that the symptoms have taken their toll on me already. "-you'll be placed elsewhere."

I raise an eyebrow, sliding the glasses back to where they were, wanting a tad bit more information before I made an attempt at killing the thing. "May I ask where?"

"It's a _sort_ of prison," mutters the left, speaking up once more, eyes not on me but somewhere in the distance behind me; I believe there is a window. "For those who survived the epidemic. There's something akin to a cure, keeps the illness at bay, at least. Slows it down."

I think on that for a moment. Would that help any, considering I have slightly less than a month to live? _Maybe_. Perhaps it would at least help me get my strength up, and it would certainly help me find other people. Other people like me. And perhaps one of them belongs to Notch's mythos. That would do it then, wouldn't it? Seven. Or a few less considering me and Maysi both must've gone missing, and Ander...is gone.

The right almost scoffs. "She still deserves more than that. That's near a reward, and for what, commiting numerous crimes? Horrendous crimes, mind you. Punishment is in order!"

The middle nods slowly. "So it is." he looks towards two skeletons that look as though they are covered in a thin layer of coal dust, but I know better. "Fetch the other prisoner."

I expect Herobrine, or perhaps Maysi, since both of them went missing as well. Nothing quite prepares me for the shock and anxiety I feel creeping through me when I see and suddenly recall _exactly_ who came here with me. The other prisoner.

They drag the witch in, kicking and screaming. Her eyes are wide with a mix of determination for freedom, and fear for what will come from lack of it. She almost seems to visibly relax when she sees me, standing in the middle of the room, unharmed aside from the wounds I sustained in the inital explosions. Lavender eyes fill with hope and something close to a smile envelopes her face; I look away, unable to bear watching the consequences of my actions.

The witch's own trial beings; they do this to humor her, as clearly the punishment has already been set. With every accusation and every fearful argument she volleys back I grow closer and closer to snapping - running towards her, defending her with nothing but my fists, but I know it will do nothing but delay the inevitable for all of two seconds. Eventually the mock trial winds down with the witch being accused of, would you believe it, witchcraft and various other crimes that had been thrust upon me prior to her entering the room. Of course, the punishment they choose for her is quite different from mine, and exactly what I expected.

They do not do this is any way even similar to formal. There are four skeletons in the room now, two of them grabbing the witch once more, one of them unsheathing not a dull stone blade that is known as their signature weapon, but a sharp iron one that whistles through the air as he pulls it upward. The other two skeletons grab at me, turning my head, making me _watch_. Once my eyes find her, I'm frozen, unable to blink, unable to even attempt getting free, unable to do anything but exactly what they want. _Watch_.

It's quick, honestly, and much more merciful than I'd've thought. The blade glides across the skin of her throat and I don't notice the wound it leaves until blood begins to heavily trickle out of the deep slit. Her eyes go wide for a split second -she gasps, tears rising- and then she collapses, the skeletons no longer bothering to hold her up. Blood pools around her, staining the floor. I hear a sob and I wonder for a second if she's still alive, if there's still hope, but then I realize it came from me, and I have to struggle to hold back more, and the tears that brim my eyes.

The skeletons then drop me, too.

I lie there for a moment, head swimming, wondering if it's real. Wondering if any of this is real. Of course I already know the answer. No, it's not. I'm in my computer. None of this even slightly effects the _real_ world. And yet this is killing me, killing _so many_ people. An epidemic that shouldn't exist. That _logically_ doesn't exist. And yet, it does. And it's killing me. And it killed the witch. I look up slightly, pushing myself up with my knees and elbows, ignoring the pain in every inch of my body as I scurry to the witch's side, not getting too close. Her chest still rises and falls. Her eyes have yet to glaze over. Her eyes, slowly turning grayer and grayer meet mine. She mouths something. It takes me a while to figure out what it was, long after she goes limp and they drag me away.

_Weakness_.

The potion she made best.

It's at that point that I can't take it anymore and I scream and lash out and sob uncontrollably, barely manging to keep my tears themselves at bay. I don't remember encountering any windows, by I see broken glass, and various cuts litter my arms and harms. It takes me a moment to realize the cuts are from the skeletons relentless attacks on me as I run, and the glass comes from the shattered lenses of my reading glasses that must have fallen out of my jacket while I was running. I scramble to pick them up, wondering if the button will even still work with the thing partially broken. Doubt resides in me, but I don't get the chance to test it as one of the skeletons launches into me, knocking me to the ground; the second is close ahead, smashing the glasses under its heel unconsciously as they attempt to corner me.

They succeed.

Something hard slams into my head and I black out.

_Again_.

"Get up."

I'm roused by these words, delivered coldly, accompanied by a rough shaking in my shoulders that makes my entire body cry out in agony. I grit my teeth to that the scream doesn't break past the barriers I've set. I flash my eyes open, looking from left to right, and finally settle them, centered on a boy in front of me that shares my pale skin and dark eyes. I'm disoriented for a moment, give my body a once over to check for wounds. My eyes linger in the fresh scabs on my arms and hands. It takes me a moment. A long one.

"Ugh. Get _up_." he jabs me this time, sending a soft wave of pain through my shoulder that utterly pales in comparison so the rising pain in my chest as I struggle to hold back the sorrow I feel. When it came to Ander, I was left sad and with the feeling that something was missing, but the witch...but...Weakness...

She was a friend. A best friend. A generous person who could always make me smile despite the grim circumstances of this place. And that is saying quite a bit. I linger in the bed for a moment, hands curling into fists and grabbing at the sheets for support, eyes scrunching closed to keep my pain under control. Finally, a let out a small breath and fling myself upward until I'm sitting upright, and then I only sit for a moment or two before I stumble to my feet. I look around. The room seems like a mass bedroom of sorts, as many beds litter it; I count at least fifteen. Though most of the residents seem to have already cleared out, as I'm among the last five still in here.

There is no specific age or gender amongst the others in here; two of them appear to be sisters, perhaps twins, somewhat close to my age, if not slightly younger. They both have the same blonde hair that is frayed a bit gray by the symptoms of their illness, and they have matching hazel eyes. One girl is slightly shorter and still has the shapeless frame of youth, while the other's features or more sharp and calculating; obviously the elder who has taken the task of caring for both of them. The third person still in the room is a child with dark hair and eyes who looks to be just under Marcia's age. He lingers close to the only adult in the room, the fourth person, a grown man with dark hair and skin, though his skin is much paler than it should be. He lacks the control the children seem to have, as he sits there, head in hands, weeping quietly. The older blonde grabs the little boy's hand to lead him out; given I've no idea where I am, I follow silently, trying to ignore the sobs of the man as I go.

The girls -toddler in tow- head down a narrow corridor and eventually reach what appears to be a large messhall. Some people stand in a long line waiting to recieve their helping of slop that is almost as gray as them, while others are already seated and feasting on it. The taller blonde releases the boy and he goes to a woman with features identical to his; they sisters step into line. I remain behind them, unsure. Eventually, I recieve my slop too, and I sit beside a girl with curly black locks and shockingly bright green eyes; she must have only just gotten the illness. What draws me near her is the way she quietly hums in between the small bites of food she takes; the way she glances around with a curious wonder as though she's as new as I am, despite looking completely comfortable in her surroundings.

"Hey," I say after a moment, feeling awkward, but needing to ask _someone_ what is going on and where I am; I assume it's the prison-medical place that I was told about, but I'm not certain. "Can you tell me what this place is...or where it is...?"

The girl looks me over for a moment, as if studying me. "They call this place a sanctuary; _we_ call it a Hell. They pretend to bring us here for vacinations or something, but my friend said they're just trying to find some _special ones_ from a story. _Stupid_. We're just north of the _Irritum_. Most of this place is underground, so it's harder to get out. Any other questions, newbie?"

I take a pause to lift up the cup that came with the food to investiage its contents; milk. It makes sense that the last of the animals would be brought to the Wither's own little city. I sniff it once -potions have a very distinct smell, though I'm not sure if the milk iteself would cancel it out- before I take a small sip and turn to the girl again. "What do you mean..._special ones_?"

She scoffs. "Hell if I know. Six or seven people that they say Notch himself is trying to find, too. Apparently he's in here too; that guy needs to get his game under control. Anyways, I don't know what's so special about 'em, but apparently it's _special_ enough to imprison us all here while we slowly die." she puncuates this last statement by angrily stabbing her gray glob with the dull plastic forks that are supplied; can't risk real silverware, could be a weapon.

I poke at my food too, the gears in my mind turning. What _does_ make the others and I stand out from the rest? We _all_ have this sickness, this..._withering_. "Have they ever found any..._special ones_ here?"

She shrugs. "They've taken a few people away, none that I knew. Most of them never came back, but I doubt they were who like were looking for."

"Why's that?" I question.

"Why do you ask so many questions?" she furrows her eyebrows at me, pursing her lips in a stubborn display of childishness. I note her sudden defensiveness.

"Who told you it wasn't them?" I counter with yet another question.

She pauses for a moment. "The redhead. They kept her here for a few days; she was whispering to people, telling them things. She seemed mad. They took her away after a while."

I grip the plastic utensil in my hand tightly. A few _days_? Sure, the wither and its minions knocked me out a few times, but not enough times for a few _days_ to pass. I'm almost certain she's talking about Maysi, and Maysi left just shortly before I did. Then another thought enters my mind and I'm left with shallow breaths as the implications of it go off on their own little world in my head, painting horrible images and possibilities. Herobrine was with her... "W-where did they take her?"

The girl just shrugs again. "All I know is they dragged her away kicking and screaming...maybe two days ago."

I attempt thinking clearly for a moment. If I was under for more than a few days...I must have been drugged. The only concern I now have is how much time there is left. A month isn't a huge amount of time, especially if I were to spend a fourth of it or so in unconsciousness. "Was there a man with her? Might've had white eyes and dark hair...?"

She arches an eyebrow at me. "Like...he was blind? I've seen a couple of blind people around here. One or two. Neither of them were with he-"

"No." I cut her off. "Empty eyes. No pupils or anything." I say, trying to make it sound as logical as I can, which isn't very much. "They might glow a bit..."

Her eyes flash with realization and she lets out a quiet laugh. "You don't actually believe in those dumb stories, do you?" she snorts.

I sulk down at my food. "No; of course not." I suppose she's answered my question with that anyway. He wasn't here and he likely never will be; not a shock, really - he doesn't have the withering, and I'd imagine the Wither finds him at least slightly valuable. I sigh under my breath and get up to head back to the bedding room I came from, supposing the best possible solution to the current issues I'm facing is a quick conference with Notch.

"Hey," she calls to me as I turn to leave, and I offer her a moment to speak. "Are you going back to sleep? You're not supposed to, we're supposed to go tend to the _Irritum's_ crops and-"

I'm out of the room before she finishes. She sprints after me.

"Why don't you go hang out with that friend you talked about?" I snap at her after a few moments of walking.

"He died." she says almost casually. "Like I said, he knew a lot about all of it, so they thought me might be...one of them. He wasn't though, but they still killed him."

I don't question her any more after that, allowing her to tag along as I slide into bed; she uncertainly watches me, fiddling self-consciously with a strand of her black locks. She mumurs something about watching the door as she settles herself on the floor near my bed. I watch her for just a few more seconds before I pull the rough blanket up over my torso and bury my head in the coverless pillow, scrunching my eyes shut. And, though it takes a little while, I eventually end up asleep.

Thankfully, I end up where I wanted to be instead of in the damned hospital. I grip the arms of my swivelling chair in a violently tight hold and look around. Yes; defnitely the _Scwerf_ meeting room. Jean is the first to come over to me, inspecting me, and though it's only a dream, it hurts when her hands brush against my wounds.

"Notch, she's pretty hurt..." she mumbles.

The man doesn't get up, just nods at her from his own seat. "Alright; give us the synopsis." he tells me.

I take a deap breath, but before I can begin the story, I stop in my tracks. "Do you know where Herobrine is? A girl told me about Maysi, that the Wither has her too, but not Herob-"

"The Wither?" Notch says, trying to remain calm and collected; there's a lot of people in this room, flipping out won't do much good. "No, I haven't...please...tell the story, Avery."

"Alright." I say, taking another breath to begin again. "Me and the wi-" my voice cracks already. I try again, "Me and the witch left and followed some tracks that we hoped were Maysi's and Herobrine's to a clearing. The Withering attacked us and took me and her to the _Irritum_ again. Right now, I'm in some kind of medical prison, and...they killed the witch...as a punishment." I break off again; Notch doesn't push me, letting me right myself before continuing. "I...that's it...I'm with a girl, she said that Maysi was there a few days ago and...how long has it been since the witch and I left?" I ask suddenly.

Jeb answers, "Five days, I believe."

Notch nods. "So what do you need?" he asks me.

I frown. "I...don't know. They broke my glasses and took all my things...I'm stuck right now."

Notch looks aghast from the news. He sighs and tries to come up with a solution, pinching the bridge of his nose in thought. "Just...stay where you are for now. We need to secure Maysi and Herobrine first. Once that's done...we'll need to find a way to bust you out. How many of the infected are in this...prison of yours?"

I think for a moment. "Probably hundreds." I inform him.

He nods thoughtfully. "Okay, that's good then. Odds are, with all those people, one of them is the last of the seven. Although Ander's gone, they say once the last of the seven meet, as some of you _are_ supposed to fall piror, then you'll be able to...well...I'm not...sure..."

Notch doesn't seem quiet certain of anything, but I get what he's trying to say.

"Alright. I'll try and find the last one. Do you know any details about them?" I ask.

He frowns. "Well, Maysi destroyed the book, and we only had the first few chunks of it filed...but from memory of what pages weren't already torn...it will be a boy. You'll know him when you see him, I'm sure."

I frown. "But-"

"You should probably wake up now..."

"Notch-!"

Still, a few seconds later darkness envalopes me and I rise in the bed, gasping and gripping the sheet painfully tight. The girl, whom I'd forgotten, glances at me with wide eyes, concerned with my show of panic. I relax, knowing that, for now, I'm not in any harm. I shakily rise from the bed, offering the girl not a word of reassurance about my well-being as I head for the door; still, she scampers after me. I let her - I'm going to need help finding this boy.

**(A/N):**

**I cannot think of anything to type here.**

**Well. New chapter.**

**Yay.**

**~patatoes**


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